#it’s nowhere near my legs or feet btw

[promiscuousasexual]

i’ve got friction burn cause of my shoes ow

[dollgxtz]

That predator x prey fix changed my brain chemistry. MORE PLEASE. Maybe in the woods? Somewhere in the middle of nowhere? I’m begging you, the way you write sylus is exactly how I imagine him 😫

Thrills

Word Count: 3.6k

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, predator x prey, cnc, hitting, choking, biting, slight injuries, pet names like kitten and sweetie, ends in fluff :3

AN: Back again with another spicy fic for my fellow deviants. I love writing this stuff so much. I hope yall enjoy! Tysm for 5,000 likes btw! I never would have thought people would like my stories this much!

You feel like you’re on the verge of collapsing.

Pushing off from the tall tree you decided to rest on, you start brushing off the dust and grease from the trail mix you were snacking on. Sweat pooled on your face and down your neck, and much to your dismay there wasn’t much breeze today.

“Sylus…are you about ready to go?” You asked, looking ahead at the man that was already 10 steps ahead of you. His long legs were certainly an advantage. You hear him chuckle and turn to meet your gaze.

“Tired already? I thought for a hunter you’d have much more stamina than this sweetie” he teases, making his way back towards you. “Yes, we can go if you’re done”

You had nonchalantly mentioned a few days prior how you felt cooped up in the bright city of Linkon, and had seen pictures of people doing hikes near this camping area. Didn’t really think anything of it until Sylus of course, had bags packed and items prepared for you within a weekend and insisted he was taking you somewhere “quiet”.

This certainly came as a shock. Though you didn’t complain much until now. You were surprisingly good at this hiking stuff, good enough that you felt confident on the more difficult trails that were so remote it was almost impossible to find the trail sometimes.

You scoff at him, rummaging through your bag to find a half empty metal water flask at the bottom. Taking a quick swig, you peer past the bottle to scan the surrounding trees and scenery.

“Say…we didn’t really see anyone on this trail. Kinda strange right?” you ask, sighing with relief as you finished chugging the rest of the cold water. Sylus raises an eyebrow at you, seemingly in thought.

“We are pretty far out. These are the more difficult trails after all” he said nonchalantly, watching curiously as a small smile arose on your face.

“Is that so?” you ask, taking a few steps forward to gaze up at Sylus. Although confused, he takes an arm and wraps it around your waist, listening intently.

“Yes. Why do you ask?”.

“So…no one else uses them?”.

“Hardly ever”.

Oh.

Sylus was certainly no dummy but was unsure what you were getting at. Knowing you well enough though, he could definitely see you were up to something. You lean in closer to him, the smell of his sweat and his bourbon cologne enveloping your senses. Your hands messed with the hem of his t-shirt. A slight blush rose to your cheeks.

“You have something in mind kitten?” he asked coyly, his patience beginning to dwindle a bit. Any longer and he’d definitely get it out of you one way or another.

You hesitated, looking down at his feet. He was more than indulgent into giving you what you asked for in terms of sex, but this might be a little too much. You debated just dropping it.

“No. Say it sweetie” Sylus teased, as if he had just read your mind. He grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him, rendering you a bit helpless. “Or should I see for myself?”

His eye lit up a bit as he said this. You gulped, shaking your head before opening your mouth to speak.

“I was thinking..." Heat rose up your neck, "Maybe we could come back here at night. And maybe you could…hunt me down a little?"

Sylus chuckled, not the least bit surprised you suggested something like this. You begin to pout at his laughter and try to turn away from him, unsuccessfully of course. He immediately ended your small outburst with a quick but deep kiss.

“You never say anything that surprises me kitten” he said, shaking his head in amusement. You yelp a bit as he picks you and your bags up, beginning to carry you bridal style back to the cabin.

“Well, go on then. How does one get you out here, all alone, to hunt you down?”

The night was almost unbearably muggy. The August heat laid down on you with it's full weight, crushing the air from your lungs. The sheets were kicked down to the bottom of the bed, barely hanging on. You wore nothing but bikini-style underwear and a thin, silk camisole, your body was still slick with sweat. The window was open and the fan was on but nothing challenged the summer heat wave.

You were unable sleep. Not fully. You were passing in and out of consciousness in a hot, confusing haze, not ever sure when you were awake, when you were dreaming, and when you were in that weird space between.

When you felt hands on your legs, you were pretty sure you were dreaming. They caressed up your calves to the sensitive backside of your thighs. Another hand tucking the hair out of your face, gently following the curve of your neck, then under and around your shoulders.

You were lifted out of bed by strong arms and a familiar, bourbon like smell. Your eyes started to flutter open.

"Shh, shh. Don’t wake up now…not yet" You nodded in agreement, plunging back down into sleep. A lukewarm breeze on your back stirred you. The sound of a car door opening, then the familiar smell of a pine car freshener. You were being placed in the back seat.

"Sy?" You asked, barely able to muster your voice. You tried to force your eyes open.

Sylus’s tall form leaned over you in the dark. A devilish look darkened his features. Then he was gone from you, and you were asleep once more.

You snapped awake when the car bounced across some deep pot hole. Where were you? How did you get here? The car rolled to a stop as you sat up, your heavy, restless sleep weighing down your limbs.

"Oh, good. I was worried you'd miss the best part."

"The best…part?" You asked, trying to take in your surroundings. Still waking up from slumber, you try your best to rub the blurriness from your vision.

Thick forest surrounded the car on either side. A familiar, faded trail sign loomed over the driver's side. You were confused, and the deep timber of Sylus’s voice was scaring you a little. He was getting out of the car and coming round to the other side when you finally put it together.

He opened the back door, and then his rough hands hauled you out of the seat like you weighed nothing. Your bare feet met rough gravel with sharp discomfort.

"The best part," Sylus said. Then he let you go. You stumbled into the gravel, your legs not quite ready to take your weight. You hit the gravel hard, small rocks biting into the fat of your thighs and your palms.

“Ow-!” you cry, rubbing your hands together to ease the sting. You look back up at him, feeling tears beginning to form in your eyes as you tried to meet his gaze.

He didn't even look at you. He wore a black t-shirt that even in the dark accentuated his muscles. The sleeves were tight around his biceps. It was tucked into black pants, accompanied by those favorite shoes of his. He pulled out a watch from one of his pockets.

"Three minutes," he told you, his voice without a hint of levity. It was almost bored, even.

You didn't move, suddenly shivering in the summer heat. You watched him roll his eyes. His hand found the back of your head and you screamed when he pulled you up to him by the hair. Your hands on his forearms helped. You could feel his muscles there and suddenly felt like he could throw you into a concrete wall if he felt like it.

You remember that Sylus is dangerous. You had no chance against him if he wanted to hurt you. He could do it with ease, even now all it would take is a quick twist of your neck and you’d be gone. You both stare at each other, his expression cold and void of any emotion.

“I suggest you start running” he growled. “My favorite part isn’t any fun if my prey doesn’t fight back a little.”

Your stomach dropped, a jolt of excitement rippling through you as you caught his meaning. He tilted his head, waiting for your response. You nodded, biting the corners of your cheeks to keep from begging him to touch you already.

Then he’s throwing you forward again.

It felt obscenely cruel, like he didn't care if you ate gravel again. You stumbled, but you didn't fall this time, using the momentum to propel yourself into the woods. All your focus turned into trying to “survive”. Your hunter reflexes and skills were certainly helping, as you felt yourself whipping past the trees and growing the distance between you and Sylus.

It wouldn’t last long though.

You could hear the crunch of gravel and sticks beneath his shoes from behind you, clearly in no hurry though. As if he was just taking a nightly stroll.

Your bare feet met the soft dirt at the start of the trail. It was pitch in the woods and you could hardly see anything in front of you, relying entirely on muscle memory. Broken branches scraped against your ankles.

You splashed through the creek you had jumped over earlier, the ice cold water shocking you a bit.

“Shouldn’t you know the trail a little better than that, kitten?," Sylus mocked almost lazily from somewhere behind you.

Fuck.

You wasted no time to think though. You were on solid ground once more, soft dirt and moss bouncing beneath your feet. You kept running until your lungs hurt. Trees scratched up your arms and legs, dirt and mud splattered across your limbs. You lost track of time, not sure how long you'd been running for.

Your lungs began to burn and you had no choice but to finally stop. You attempt to catch your breath and take in your surrounds but you can hardly see anything.

Were you even going the right way? Is this the same trail even?

Trying not to panic, you start jogging forward. Maybe you could find a tall tree or a big rock to hide behind?

Something rustled in the bushes. Your heart pounded, your blood rushed in your ears. You tried to quiet your breathing but your lungs fought for air. The forest was quiet again.

Shit, you were so fucking lost.

You wanted so badly to sit and rest, but you forced yourself forward. The path got more difficult here. You had to use the trees and rocks around you to navigate rough terrain.

The bushes rustled again, this time ahead of you.

You froze to your spot. An animal? Your pursuer? You suddenly were even more terrified, wondering if you were gonna meet an untimely demise by a bear or something.

Then he appeared out of the darkness ahead of you like a tiger emerging from water. It was a smooth transition, his movements liquid and purposeful. It was like he belonged to these woods more than the world outside. How did he get ahead of you?

Twigs snapped beneath his shoes as he made a steady pace towards you. He rolled his shoulders, stretching his neck as he strolled confidently forward.

You turned to run, sprinting into the woods on shaking, tired legs. A scream escaped you as the adrenaline pooled again in your body. Your higher brain, the part that knew this was a game, was having fun. But that deeper core of your being? The part responsible for fight or flight? An integral part of the human core? That part was terrified.

Feeling generous, Sylus let you get a few paces ahead before sprinting after you. In almost no time he caught up to you, his evol wrapping around your ankle, causing you to fall and hit the mossy earth. Sylus wasted no time getting on top of your thrashing body. He wasn’t even panting or out of breath, unlike you, who was struggling to breathe underneath him.

His arms were around your hips, pinning you against his body. His breath was hot in your ear. You squirmed and thrashed as hard as you could, trying to break free of his grasp. The cold and familiar feel of his evol began to snake around you, threatening to hold you in place and trap you under his looming figure.

“Stop!” you screamed, animalistic terror overtaking your body. Your defiant attitude raged forward, refusing to accept your predicament.

“Hush now kitten” Sylus cooed, brushing some hair out of your face. “You did a good job making it as far as you did…but you’re mine now”

Screw you!," you hissed, kicking at his legs, adrenaline moving you harder than you meant to. Your heel found a soft part of his inner thigh. He released you with a hiss.

Oh, shit," you turned to face him, already about to apologize, but froze at the expression on his face. He chuckled, but it was a joyless sound. Then a hand was coming down across your cheek, hard enough to stagger you.

Your ear rang, a heavy stinging sensation burned that side of your face. Heat pooled between your legs. The pain thrilled you. You let out a few choked gasps, the stinging sensation turning into just a slight burn.

Then his hands were on either side of your face. He was gentle, tilting your jaw towards him to examine the damage.

“Behave. I don’t want to bruise your pretty face” he said, his tone a mix of anger yet overwhelmingly concerned. You nod reassuringly, a need of a sudden defiance overcoming you.

“Yknow, for the leader of Onychinus, you hit like a bitch” you spat, a smug expression growing on your face.

He struck you again, hard enough to draw a sound from you somewhere between a wince and a whimper. You swore you saw stars.

"Always fucking testing me" he growled. “Let’s fix that”.

One hand was grabbing you by the hair again, another wrapping around to grab your throat. He squeezed. That sweet, floating feeling. Then release, the blood rushing back.

He did it again, longer, until you felt weightless, until your vision started to blur. Then release, and you crashed down into your body.

He wrestled you down onto the ground. Your fingers dug into his forearms leaving hot, red scratches. You kicked at him, but he was expecting it this time. You really, really tried to fight him off. You put everything you had into it, animalistic protests falling on deaf ears as he was simply much stronger than you. He shoved your face into the damp earth.

“Fuck you," you groaned, your breath stirring the dirt in front of your lips.

“You’re about to sweetie”

You heard his belt, then his zipper. He shifted his body against you and you could hear the shift in fabric as he pulled his pants down. You struggled against him the entire time, and he barely even acknowledged you. Fuck, it turned you on to see how easily he could overpower you. One handed, even.

He pulled your hips up to his, spreading your legs apart with his knee. He leaned over you.

"Do you have any fucking idea," he muttered, his voice fanning a building flame between your legs, "How much restraint it takes to not fucking hurt you?"

His words alone drew a whimper from you. Instinctually, you backed your hips against him, inviting him. You pressed your ass against his cock, feeling it hard and warm. His breath shuddered.

"Can't believe you like this," he muttered, lining himself up with your cunt. "You want to take my cock face down in the dirt. How would the Hunters Association feel if they know they had such a dirty girl protecting Linkon hm?”

You weren't even sure when he got your underwear off, but he found your cunt dripping wet. Of course he did.

He dips a finger in between your folds, and you whimper and shake beneath him. Practically panting, you attempt to push back against the friction.

“Sy…take me, please” you whined, the aching hot feeling in your core beginning to be too much to bare.

“Louder” he said, pushing the head of his cock inside your hole just barely. Even though he’s barely inside of you, the sensation is incredible. You can barely think of a few words much less say them, bliss and pleasure flooding your entire body.

You try and push yourself up against him but he hovered just out of reach.

“Not what I asked for” he said plainly.

“Please Sylus” you begged. “Please fuck me in th-”

You didn't get to finish your sentence. His cock pushed into you in one motion, a loud, gasping moan escaping you. A low growl escaped him, sending a thrill down your spine.

Sylus pulled back, then pushed into you again. Hard. His hands squeezed onto your hips beyond bruising. Fuck, you were sure he could break the bone if he wanted to.

He fucked you hard, both of you a sweating, panting mess. The sounds of his cock slamming into your soaked pussy rang out into the forest, your moans unbridled by fear of bothering any nearby wildlife.

“Ah! Hgn…Sylus, that's too much," you managed through your moans, pain blooming across your body. You squirm a bit but it only makes him grip your body tighter.

"You can handle it," he growled, not even slowing.

His teeth sunk into your shoulder, electricity running through your body. He bit into you like a rabid dog, his breath quick and heavy on your skin. You cry out, unable to do much besides take the brutal pounding Sylus was giving you.

Your legs were shaking against him. The sounds you made were wild, a flurry of unbridled moans and curses. Sylus didn't speak so much as he growled; rough, guttural. A feral animal lost in how good fucking you felt.

"Fuck, fuck, I'm-Sylus, fuck, I'm so..."

He released his bite on you, growling encouragement in your ear. You teetered on the edge for what felt like eternity, your high just building, and building, and building.

His hand buried into your hair again, pulling your face from the dirt. He used your hair to pull you against him, sharp pain rocketing down your back.

It was enough to tip you over the edge. You came hard, shaking and nearly crying with how fucking good it felt.

Three hard thrusts and Sylus was cumming with you, unable to hold back. The familiar warm feeling of his seed shooting inside your walls was exhilarating. The two of you gasped for air, panting and heaving, sweat pouring down the both of you. You lay there on the ground shaking and whimpering like a hurt animal, all your sensations overwhelmed by the animalistic sex that just occurred.

Sylus immediately pulled out of you, leaning back on his ankles. He gathered you up against him, clutching you in his embrace tightly. Neither of you said anything, just panting and holding each other. Eventually you managed to breathe normally, and didn’t feel so adrenaline pumped. You steadily relax in his arms much to his relief.

“Be honest with me” Sylus starts, brushing some tangled hair off of your sweat and dirt covered face. You hum questionably, wondering if something was wrong.

“Was it too much? Are you hurt?”

You let out a snort, much to his surprise. “I mean I am sore…but I’ve fought wanderers who hurt me far worse than that”

This earned you a slight chuckle from Sylus, who began rubbing his fingers on his temple in amusement. “Is that so? Are you saying I need to hurt you better than a wanderer? I can certainly make that happen sweetie”

You immediately shake your head, and Sylus lets out an even louder bit of laughter.

“I-I was kidding!! Don’t you dare-”

“I know sweetie, I would never hurt you that bad. Not even if you asked me to” he said softly, standing up with you in his arms much to your surprise. He helps you straighten out your clothes, offering a steady shoulder while you put your underwear back on, eventually tending to his own. The sun was steadily rising at this point, the peak of the sunset cascading a warm glow over the forest.

You attempt to start walking in the direction of the car but your legs are terribly achy and shake with every step. Sylus leans down in front of you, motioning for you to get on his back. You oblige, happily leaning your head against the back of his neck as he carries you.

“I brought you extra clothes in the car” he says, making careful steps to avoid turbulence for you. You beamed from behind him, feeling giddy all of a sudden.

“You’re so sweet Sylus, it’s cute”

You hear an audible hmph come from him, but it only makes you giggle more.

When the two of you finally made it back to the car, the sun had risen even more, much to Sylus’s displeasure. He helped you take off your dirty and torn clothes, helping put a thin but simple nightdress over your head. After having your face wiped down with baby wipes you relax in the passenger seat, exhaustion finally overwhelming you.

“When we get back, we’ll have a nice shower and dinner before we go to sleep sweetie. How does that sound?” Sylus asked, gazing at you with the softest look you had ever seen from him.

“Best words you’ve ever said to me Sy”

He grinned and started the engine.

[anystalker707]

Way too hot

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x [gender neutral] Reader Words: ~ 1 400 Summary: Ace can't keep his hands off you after you finish working out. Tags: Ace is annoying (/pos) <3 / needy bf / someone hold him, please / absolute dogboy

Requested by anon "Hey can i request a slight nsfw scenario about ace x fem reader with her getting just done with a workout and being all sweaty (...)"

A/N: it's suggestive and reader is gender neutral bc i only say that they got their shirt off--if it's fem reader, it's still implied she keeps a sports bra on, if it's male reader, it's just shirtless, and so it goes; nothing specifying anything. Alabasta Ace is my main ref, btw <3

MASTERLIST

          The day was rather calm—Moby Dick was on the shore of a monotonous island, and while most of the crew had left, you and Ace, along with a few others, had stayed back to watch the ship at the lack of interests in the island—, so it was a great opportunity to put your workout up to date, given the good climate. Soft breezes sometimes soothed the hot weather, so you decided to enjoy it, and made sure no one needed you before changing into shorts and a shirt then grabbing a bottle of water along with a barbell with a few plates on it.

Shadow was cast over some empty part of the deck, so that was exactly where you headed to so you could train. Well, empty when you checked on it earlier because, at the moment, Ace was asleep against a mast with his hat on his face and arms behind his head as if he’d been there for at least an hour now. You didn’t even bother wondering where he had shown up from since it was probably one of the most reasonable occasions with him. Your things were set aside before you approached Ace, hooking an arm around his shoulders and another under his knees so you could lift him up.

Despite the way his head falls back and his hat is only held by the way the cord is stuck under his chin, Ace never wakes up, only groaning and adjusting his position when you set him on the ground again, near a wall. He could be so damn adorable. Your heart fluttered at how he scrunched his nose in his sleep, mumbling something incoherent after you pressed a kiss to his cheek so you could step away.

With a deep sigh, you threw your arms above your head then down to the ground’s direction to stretch yourself before you could start your workout. It was more of strength and mobility working since the cardio was always done by running around with Ace, leaving your focus on less points.

Counting the reps was instinctive. You did it in the back of your mind while you observed the sea or watched Ace talk in his sleep once in a while before you took a pause or switched hands, a routine you kept religiously until the heat became too much, hence you ended up discarding your shirt at some point before you could continue.

It was about an hour and half later that you put the barbell down for the last time today, leaving it in a corner so it wouldn’t bother anybody. Your muscles felt on fire while you moved for the first minutes, heavier and weaker than usual, hence you could barely lift your feet from the ground while walking over to your water, finishing it at once before you grabbed the shirt you’d tossed away earlier to clean the sweat away from your forehead, but it was nowhere to be seen... Nah, there it was.

“Give.” You made a grabby motion for Ace, who twisted his mouth a little and tossed the shirt to you before he smiled. He still had an arm behind his head and his hat now rested on his chest while his legs were one over the other. “Slept good?”

“Yep!” He grinned and was on his feet with a jump, arms in air for a few seconds to stretch himself. “I see you were working out!”

You only hummed in agreement, wiping the sweat away from your face before you let your shirt hang around your neck. The words you wanted to say died in the tip of your tongue when you noticed Ace seemed a little off; he hunched there with his hands in his pockets and a distant expression, but his eyes weren’t on yours, instead scanning your body with an admirable focus.

“Ace—”

“Damn!” Ace raised his eyebrows, biting on his lip for a second. “You look hot.” You scoffed with a chuckle, but he just nodded in response, stepping closer to place a hand on your waist. “Like sculpted by a god or something.” He is leaning in before you can notice, about to bury his face in your neck when you push him away with your hands on his chest.

“No, no, no! Not right now!” You stepped away from his attempt to catch you in his arms, leaving a grumpy Ace to hug the air instead of you. “I’m sweaty and it’s really hot, and I’m not sure if you’re going to take a shower later!”

“But you look so pretty,” he whined with a pout, “so hot! Let me at least—”

As much as it had your face heating up, you knew better than to give in to Ace’s whines, so you continued to shake your head as you walked to the barbell so you could put everything away. He was faster, however, taking a seat on top of the bar with his arms crossed over his chest. As if it’d cause you any trouble. You rolled your eyes and lifted him off it in bridal style easily; he was about to hook his arms around your neck when you just let him fall to the ground.

“(Y/n)!” Ace groaned, but didn’t even bother to complain more once you ignored him, only standing up again to chase you.

And hell, who thought that’d end up being a problem? Ace was fucking everywhere, you didn’t have a second of peace. He was following you everywhere you went, with those lost puppy eyes, for the rest of the day—even when he was falling asleep suddenly, he woke up again at the moment you moved to either hold onto you or follow. Sometimes, he’d look at you with the biggest eyes he could muster and clasp his hands together to let out the whiniest ‘please’ you’d ever heard. He even freaked out after you arrived at the kitchen, fresh out of the shower, and told him to wait until it was night and the others had returned; it’d be safer and the weather would be nicer.

“B—But now there’s barely anyone on the ship! I doubt anyone would attack us without us noticing it first long before! Like—”

“Won’t you shut the fuck up?” you whisper-yelled, pretending you were going to hit him with the big spoon you had in hand before going back to serving yourself your lunch. He flinched at first then broke in chuckles, grinning wide.

“I can’t help!” Ace had a hand on his hip and the other on the counter as he leaned against it—his hands would probably be on your hips while he stood behind you with his chin on your shoulder if you’d allowed him to touch you; maybe you would have already if it weren’t so fun to watch him sulking around and the fact you couldn’t step away from watching the ship. “Like, maybe if you looked at yourself— You should let me know whenever you’re going to work out, y’know? Or wear those more. It really suits you! Actually, it’s more about your body, I—”

“Get your lunch so we can go sit outside.” Your eyes didn’t even meet his, but you were there waiting for him so you could sit on the deck while you had lunch.

“Y’know...” He mumbled, fingers grazing your thigh.

“I told you to wait!”

“Maybe you’re doing all of this on purpose just to torture me...” Ace groaned through the food in his mouth and, despite the partial truth in his words, all you did was to shoot him a playful glare and roll your eyes.

Ace was quiet for the rest of the meal, at least. The next time he bothered you, was when the sun was already a lot lower in the horizon, with a sunset that would start in some minutes. You sat at the table on the deck in an attempt to enjoy the rest of your free day in peace with the book Marco had gotten you. 

“Please, please, please,” Ace mumbled annoyingly, seemingly never-ending. He sat there on the ground with your feet between his legs, beside the chair you sat on. Whenever you forgot about him, Ace would start his ranting once again and hug your leg, keeping his cheek pressed to your knee.

You sighed deeply and lowered a hand to pat his head, at first just playing with his hair then motioning for him to pull away. “Okay, okay, get up, I’m tired of your whining. Let’s fix this.”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

[thedevilsdom]

Do you write for Genshin? HAHSHSHA aghshd zhongli is vvv sensitive and can cum by just playing w his nipples. Overstimming him til he's crying and shaking and u're still not stopping🤤... AAAA just torturing him w toys or whatever,, maybe even eating him out?

N e ways,, i hope this doesn't bother u HAHSHAHS FEEL FREE TO IGNORE THIS!!

<3333

Happy pride month btw!

THIS IS SO LATE IM SORRY

also,,, dragon dick zhongli,,,

--

You never thought that a millenia old god would be so very sensitive.

"You really feel so much, don't you, sweet thing?" You say. He's laid on his back on the nice, soft bed, his coat discarded and shirt unbuttoned so you can have free access to his lovely toned front. You've also decided to give him a little relief and unbuttoned his pants, pulling them and his underwear a little down his thighs.

"Nobody- hah- nobody's ever touched me like this," The back of his hand is pressed to his warm lips, cheeks dusted with red.

"Oh?" Your fingers rub over his nipples and his dick twitches in response. You look down at his length, its fade from a deep orange to a golden yellow, its lovely inhuman-ness. He was so embarrassed about allowing you to see, but you're grateful that he did.

"You deserve to feel good like this, baby," You kiss his shoulder, then his chest, then his nipple, and oh the moan that it draws out from him. Low and shuddery, hand gripping the sheets.

"I think I'm close," He whimpers. Zhongli hardly masturbated, especially not before he met you. He's got such a short fuse, and he's so sensitive that you think if you treat him a little too roughly, he'll shatter.

"Here," You grab onto his pants and underwear, pulling them down and off, tossing them off to the side. Once he's exposed, he can't help but squeeze his legs shut and try to hide, but a hand on each of his knees has him spreading his legs.

"Keep your legs spread for me, okay honey?" You smile, kissing the inside of his knee. He nods, not trusting his mouth to speak. You nestle your head against his neck and start sucking a mark onto his untainted skin. He cries out as your hands return to his nipples, pinching and rubbing them.

"So good, feels good," He mumbles, "My- ngh- I'm so hard, I'm so aroused, everything you do feels good-" Zhongli keeps babbling as you bring pleasure to his body.

You knew that Zhongli talks a lot, he's a very eloquent man, you really should've expected him to keep that up here.

"I'm going to cum," His voice is reedy and airy in a way you rarely hear it. "I-! Ngh!"

Gritting his teeth and growling, Zhongli cums heavy white streaks across his chest, legs struggling to stay open for you as his feet press into the bed and he bucks his hips up, dick untouched as he climaxes.

You don't stop touching him, even after he's cum.

Moving down between his legs, you hold them open as you go down to his hole, kissing just next to it, displaying your intention to him. He gasps as soon as he realizes.

"N- wait! That-!" His head is still spinning from his orgasm, he can hardly string the words together, "It- that's d-dirty!"

"Is it now?" You can't help but giggle, knowing just how much of a clean person Zhongli is. You know he's never had anyone touch him here, and you doubt that he's even thought about it. You don't give him any more time to worry before you dive in.

You press your tongue to his hole and feel him tense up immediately, yelping.

"You can't do tha- ah!" Zhongli gasps as your tongue pushes into him. His hands immediately fly to your head, pushing you more against him. You throw any caution of his fragility to the wind.

You start to tongue fuck him like that, your hot breath ghosting across his skin as his hole quivers around your tongue. He cries out the whole time, pitch only raising as you reach up stroke through the cum on his stomach before you start jerking him off.

The overstimulation makes him feel like he's being electrocuted. He can't stop moaning, he can't stop screaming, all his eloquence gone. You're not sure if he even realizes how loud he's being. Hot tears roll down his cheeks and his hips are constantly squirming under you.

His second orgasm takes him by surprise, cock throbbing and dribbling cum, nowhere near as much as his first. His hole spasms around your tongue and his hips jerk up while you stroke him through it with your hand.

When he's done and you finally pull back, he's left sobbing on the bed, head resting on his pillow.

"Oh, my baby," You swipe up some of his cum on your finger and lick it off. "Was that okay? I didn't go too hard?"

"N-No," He hiccups, wiping away some of his tears, "It was r-really good..."

He hides his face behind his hands, obviously embarrassed.

"Love," You pull his hands back and cup his flushed cheek. "You're so pretty," Your thumb strokes over his cheek, "I love you, I can't wait to do more with you."

The devious glint in your eye is not lost on him. He shivers with the anticipation of what you have in store for him, and he's eager to see it.

--

like my writing? consider buying me a kofi!

[tobi-momo]

A Misunderstanding

PAIRING: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

GENRE: Angst | Hurt/Comfort | Reverse Comfort

WARNINGS: a lot of crying from both you and kuroo | cursing | mentions of sex | cheating (kind of? youll know when reading) | angst | mentions of drinking/being drunk | nothing is suggestive!! oh ya yall are married btw

WORD COUNT: 3k

A/N: ok ik this is long but this idea came from literally nowhere but i decided to write it thank you @combat-wombatus for helping me you helped put ideas in my brain<333 now i wasnt originally going for a happy ending but im really bad at angst so enjoy the shitty ending :)

“Please, Y/n, you know I didn't mean it,” he pleaded, his large hands desperately grabbing at your form while you push him away, your breaking sobs making his heart shatter. “Please, baby, don’t leave me,” he begs, falling on his knees in front of your trembling body, not being able to tear his eyes off of your heartbroken ones. He needed you to stay. He needed to show you that he isn’t that guy and that he would do anything for you. It was a one time thing. He wasn’t even sober. It wasn’t him. It was the alcohol. He wasn’t thinking straight. Please forgive him, please, please, please.

But you couldn’t. No matter how hard or how much you loved him and wanted to, the pain that ripped at your heart every time you looked at him was too much to bear. So you didn’t. You turn your blurry, glassy eyes away from him as he grabs your hand and forces it into his; your lips quivering and knees shaking. You couldn’t keep the betrayal and agony inside, whining and weeping at him, your knees giving out before your legs slam against the floor, your head near the carpet as you try and keep your affliction at bay.

“Y/n, please,” he whines, tears streaming down his pale cheeks; his admission of his unfaithfulness drained the color from his face. “Please forgive me, I need you, I love you so much.”

“W-” you sniffle, not knowing what to say. You knew you didn’t have to say anything at all, that you didn’t owe him any words, but you just...you just needed to know. “Why,” your voice quivered and cracked, your throat sore, “why did you,” you take a long breath, grabbing your chest to try and stop the heartache, the sudden cramp that formed where it used to be filled with warmth and love, “do this to me? With her?” You look up at him once with wide, searchful eyes as you ponder the reasons and look for the answers in his empty pupils.

“I wasn’t thinking straight, baby, I didn’t know what I was doing, please,” his voice stammers, trying to get you to understand that he really didn’t know what he was doing. “I would never do this to you, I-” “But you did.” Your tone is no longer sad and confused, but angry and fed up. His head backing up quickly, not expecting the response. “You made a promise, Tetsurou, remember?” You glare at him with menacing eyes as you hold up the very finger he kissed and placed the ring on on your wedding day. The beautiful diamond ring that had his initials carved in the interior and little gorgeous jewels that made the walls sparkle once hit with the hot sun was no more; the dark, gloomy piece of rock and metal meaning nothing but lies and mistrust.

“No, Y/n, please. Don’t do this to me,” he adjures guiltily.

“Don’t do this to you?” Your voice laced with deadly venom, standing and backing up, wiping your mouth with your hand in annoyance, placing it on your hip. “You did this to me! You did this to us! You went out! You got drunk! You fucked someone else! And not even a random girl! No! You just had to fuck your ex!” Your voice cracked again before you inhaled sharply and covered up your struggle.

“Y/n, I didn’t know what I was doing!”

“And that’s an excuse?? What, so now you can go fuck whoever you want and say ‘I didn’t know what I was doing!’” you mimic, “so you can get away with it every time?”

He didn’t answer. He looked at the ground, understanding exactly where you came from.

“Hm? Are you gonna answer me, or sit there like a coward?”

He could tell fully well you were just saying this because you were hurt. You didn’t mean any of it. You loved him. No matter what, you will always love him. Trusting him was out of the box for a while, maybe forever. But he can’t lose you. He knew you were soulmates- he knew you were made for each other. There was a reason you guys made it this far and only had big problems now. He needed to find that reason and use it for himself to win you back. He needed you back.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, your dramatic hand gestures coming to a halt at his words, your figure coming to a stand still as you wait for him to finish. “You don't deserve this. You don’t deserve me. Please know that it was a mistake and that I’ll never do it again ever, ever, ever,” he repeats, wanting it to sound as sincere as he means. “Just please give me a chance to make this up to you, please don’t leave me by myself without you,” he sobs out, putting his head in his hands.

You knew you shouldn’t feel bad for him. But god-fucking-dammit are you feeling bad for him. You knew you still loved him, you knew he still loved you- that much was obvious. You couldn’t see him for a while, no. Could you guys work it out? Maybe stitch the wound? Wait until the scar is barely visible anymore? Would that even work?

“Tetsurou,” a single, hot tear dripping down your face as you point to the ground. “I don’t know if I can ever trust you again.”

“I know, I know, just please give me a chance to help fix this!” He cries at your feet, his body bundled in a ball of self hatred and guilt. “I can do it, baby. I can help things go back to normal.”

“I don’t think they ever will be normal again.”

He whines, trying to negotiate with you as much as he can. “Let me fix us. Let me give you my everything again, let me show you that I’m all yours and no one else's, please,” he moans in anticipation for rejection, knowing the chances of you agreeing were next to zero.

The next few hours are silent. Him alone in the bedroom. Crouching on the floor as he ponders your possible answer. You work in the kitchen, making food to satisfy your appetite. He could hear your sniffles from the bedroom and picture you wiping your tears as you carry the pots on the stove. God, he was the biggest piece of shit ever known. What the fuck went through his mind when he was fucking his ex? He only remembers some of it, them waking up in bed together after, only wearing undergarments underneath the sheets and him holding her waist as if she were you. He thought they had ended on good terms, knowing that they were better as friends. He rushed out the door, not being able to stay in the same room without getting sick. He knew what he had to do.

He opens the door to the living room, a slight creak gaining your attention as you stir the sauce in the pan. Your eyes are puffy, your lip still trembling as you try to turn away from him. He only takes about two steps forward before he stops, trying to find the words he wants to say.

“Listen, I know you said you needed time, and I’m not rushing you at all whatsoever. I want to give you all the time in the world to think this over. If you need, I can go to Kou’s house and stay there for a while. He won’t mind. I just want to give you the space you deserve.”

You nod in response, your head still facing away before he whispers an “I love you” before he slips out of the apartment.

~.~.~.~

The next few days were tortue. Not being able to sleep in the same bed he would sleep in with you, not being able to watch the same tv shows, not being able to even be in his presence at least once a day like you used to melted a hole of despair inside you: eating away at your emptiness, taking away the numbness that you so desperately needed right now. The feeling came back- the one that you tried shutting out three hours ago. It crept up at you, flipping your stomach and weighing your lungs down to the floor, your throat sore and dry. Your eyes wet with a blurry wall as your tears build up once again, missing your cheeks as you crouch down looking at the floor, falling on the tile. The droplets containing your anguish splatter on the ground, your raggedy whimpers echoing throughout the vacant apartment, making it all the more obvious he wasn’t there.

Knock knock knock

Was that the door?

Your wide, unbelieving eyes turned to the wooden door frame; the knocks getting louder and faster. You quickly stand up and try to collect yourself, preparing to have a long talk with Tetsurou. You grab the handle, turning it- the door opening with a tiny creak.

Oh.

“Hi! Kuroo left his jacket at the party the other day, is he here?”

Oh, that bitch.

“No. He’s not.” You deadpan, not finding her cheery, happy expression amusing.

“Oh no! Uh, well, here, can you give this back to him for me?”

“Stop smiling at me like you aren’t part of the reason he’s gone.” You snark, glaring at her with sharp eyes as she backs up, confused.

“W-what?”

“You heard me. Don’t act fucking clueless.”

“Excuse me? Who are you to talk to m-”

“Oh, cut the shit,” you roll your eyes, “I know you slept with Tetsurou, you don’t need put on whatever the fuck this is,” you gesture at her.

“What the hell are you talking about? What are you, fucking crazy?” Your eyes narrow in confusion, your disgusted scowl lessening at her words.

“Right. You probably don’t remember because you were blacked out,” you add sarcastically. “He told me what you guys did. Now you know. So, I would love it if you would just leave.”

“What are you- Me and Kuroo didn’t do shit last night. I drank like two beers and was hanging out with another girl the entire time,” she explains, looking offended. Your face loosens into an expression she couldn’t read. “He blacked out early and passed out on the couch while I was busy talking with the other girl.”

“Huh?” You whisper, your disoriented thoughts not aligning to a proper conclusion.

“I didn’t go to bed until like,” she thought back, “I don’t know, three in the morning? There were people passed out on the floor so I decided to take the guest bedroom with her. I was still awake when Kuroo came into the room, I’m guessing because he thought it was yours, based off of how he kept mumbling your name and shit,” she exhales, “he grabbed onto me once he got in and just clung.” You glower at her, huffing. She sees this, sighing before continuing, “Calm down, remember nothing happened. Remember that girl? She ended falling off the bed because I was scooting away from his clingy ass.” You look at her blankly, trying to fit the pieces together. “She ended up leaving the party completely,” she mumbled in embarrassment before you speak up.

“Then why did he tell me you guys had sex?” You mutter quietly, although assuming she heard since her head backed up while she quickly scoffs.

“I swear to God, that man. Listen.” You look up into her eyes- her genuine eyes. “Me and Kuroo didn’t do a single thing. I didn’t do anything to him and he didn’t do anything to me. I’ll have a conversation with him later because he is an absolute dumbass,” she breathed.

What the fuck?? You were just supposed to believe her?

“How am I supposed to believe that?”

“Me and him ended a long time ago. I don’t like him like that and I haven’t for a while. And seeing he was bragging about you the entire time at the party, he’s over me, too. Besides, I’m not even into guys that much anymore anyways,” she grinned and winked at you. The shock and realization hit you like a truck. She wasn’t even- oh my God. She chuckled at your expression; you ran away from her to the counter to get your phone, quickly unlocking it and tapping on Tetsurou’s contact.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mumble over and over. To tap the call button, listening to it ring as you bring your phone up to your ear, hearing him pick up the phone almost immediately after.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” He sounded worried. It’s only been about a week, he had hoped that you weren’t going to leave him.

“Get over here, right now, Tetsurou.” Your voice made it seem like it was urgent, so he quickly picked up his jacket from the couch, and you could hear the jingling of his keys as he grabbed them and opened the door, almost slamming it shut once he left.

~.~.~.~

“Y/n?” He asked at the open front door, wondering why it wasn’t closed. “Y/n, you have to be careful and close the door, we have them for a reason, you know,” he said as he walked in. Even after being at the line of a break-up, he still cares for your well-being. He didn’t even do anything wrong and he was still caring for you as a loved one should. He always did everything to make you feel comfortable and safe, so once he knew that he had slept with his ex he was completely devastated to his core. He didn’t want to do this to you, but you had the right to know.

“Tetsu.” You called. Already back to nicknames? This is good, right?

“Yes? Y/n?” He was scared, to say the least, feeling awkward and not knowing what to do. He walked scarcely towards your figure sitting on the couch, not caring to drop his keys and jacket on the counter. He had a feeling this might go wrong.

“We need to talk.” Shit. This is exactly what he didn’t want to hear. Hearing those words he couldn’t help but think that you were going to make him pack his stuff and go. “So, I talked with your ex.” You speak slowly, not wanting your words to come out wrong. You don’t want him to take any of this in a bad way at all. Yet his eyes widen drastically, his heartbeat racing and his nerves pricking him. “You are just one big dummy, aren’t you?”

What? What are you talking about?

“What?”

“You didn’t sleep with her. She told me everything that happened that night. She’s not even into guys anymore. Tetsu-”

This couldn’t be happening. Not only did he accuse himself of cheating, he accused himself of cheating with his ex, and that he cheated with his ex at a party, while you two are married. And then it turns out it wasn’t true? What the hell was wrong with him? He jeopardized your entire relationship because he was too drunk to know what was going on.

“Wait, what?” He yells, angrily sitting down on the couch, “so you’re telling me-” you nodded and hummed an ‘mhm’ in response. His hands find their way to his hair, pulling at the roots and scratching his scalp, his low grunts of pain and fury seeping out of his throat as he frustratingly comprehends what he just did.

You rush over to him, grabbing his wrists and pushing them down to his lap as fast as you can, making his eyes find their way to your blown out pupils. You can see the hot tears prickle down his cheek as he frowns at you, completely and utterly defeated.

“Tetsu, I don’t want you to hurt yourself, it’s okay,” you reassure, giving him a happy smile. He wanted to smile back, but he couldn’t control the broken sob that escaped him. “Hey, hey,” you try to grab his attention as he pulls his head down, crying. “It’s okay, baby, it’ll be okay.” You wrap your arms around his head, protecting him as you softly coo and ‘shh’ him quietly in his ear. ‘I’m sorry’ kept coming out of his mouth as he clinged to you, not being able to help his want to be closer to you. The realization that he just almost broke your heart completely and he had worried about divorce for this shit made him want to just rip his scalp out. He was so stupid. So, so so, stupid. “Tetsu, look at me, please. Look at me,” you whisper, bringing your hand to his chin, dragging it up so you could catch sight of his hazel irises. His eyes red and puffy, his cheeks wet and his eyes droopy, you couldn’t do anything but frown at the sight. He hated himself right now, not wanting to face the embarrassment and the humiliation of the situation.

“You don’t deserve me, I’m so sorry,” he whimpered in your arms, gripping them tighter and tighter for comfort- you knowing that he needed it right now. You had already pulled him into your chest, feeling his wet tears soak your shirt, your hands rubbing his back and your fingers gently grazing his throbbing scalp.

“It’s okay, I forgive you, Tetsu, you did the right thing by telling me you did it instead of hiding it from me, and then it turns out you didn’t do it at all.” Your cheeks start to feel hot, and you don’t even realize your sniffles until you could feel a dam break at your water line. You couldn’t stop them, the tears of relief. You didn’t want to stop them. You were glad that they were her, glad that they were for him, glad they were because you knew the truth, glad because you knew you two would be okay.

You looked back at your ring, watching it bloom like a flower in the spring, the meaning coming back to your marriage. It wasn’t just metal and rock anymore, it was a gorgeous promise.

“I love you, Tetsurou. Don’t forget that. You’re staying with me, alright?” you whisper into his hairline.

“Thank you,” he cries.

taglist: @solar3lunar @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @toosharkinternet @hitosushi @alpha3113 @awmahleebkg

haikyuu taglist: @pies-writes-and-more @luvrboykento

REQUESTS: OPEN

reblogs are appreciated :))

[pxnk-velvet]

.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.・✧・゜・.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.

𝑁𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑙 𝑃ℎ𝑦𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙 𝐹𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑠

✧ summary :: some physical features that are usually considered insecurities I think Karasuno has

✧ warnings :: mention of physical features, body image, and insecurity.

✧ a/n :: if you have any of the features mentioned, just know you are absolutely beautiful and amazing just the way you are and never forget that!!! btw my taglist is open and reblogs are always appreciated 😁

.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.・✧・゜・.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.

☾ daichi and asahi definitely have stretch marks, you can’t tell me other wise. daichi more so around his shoulders, bicep/chest area, and midsection; asahi has them near his lower back (the horizontal kind from growing tall) and around his thighs and back of his knees/calves.

☾ asahi has a lot of body hair, some on his arms and back, chest, and he’s even got a little happy trail (pls this? my knees are weak 🖐🏼😳) he also has really broad shoulders and big hands which tend to get clammy a lot. plus I think he has fuller lips and really pretty long eye lashes, something he’s not the biggest fan of.

☾ daichi isn’t this crazy built, all abs and muscle athlete, he’s got some fluff to his stomach and thighs which he tends to bug himself about sometimes. I also think he has a couple acne scars along his cheeks and he could grow a bread if he wanted but chooses not to.

☾ I feel like suga doesn’t have perfectly straight teeth, like he has a little gap between his front teeth or his bottom teeth overlap with each other a bit. and his skin is a bit on the dryer side, so he needs to use moisturizer or else it’ll start to flake a bit.

☾ tanaka keeps his hair short because he’s got a cowlick, so when his hair grows a little too long, the hair in that section sticks out in a way he doesn’t like, but it’s actually really cute. he also has really nicely shaped and thick eyebrows which saeko helps maintain.

☾ noya has crooked pinkies, the kind that when you stick your hands out flat, they curve in towards the ring finger, I also feel like he’s ambidextrous, but prefers using his right hand. and he’s also covered in little bumps, cuts, and bruises which just appear out of nowhere, except for the ones he gets from volleyball.

☾ yamaguchi and ennoshita have bumps in the bridges of their noses, and the tip of yamaguchi’s nose is also a little upturned.

☾ it’s pretty commonly said that yamaguchi is covered in freckles but I don’t think so. he only has them along the bridge of his nose and maybeeee a light sprinkling along his shoulders that’s really only visible in the summer.

☾ I also feel like ennoshita is also on the hairier side, definitely his arms and legs, as well as a small dusting along his chest which he shaves often. and he’s got a tiny scar on his bottom lip.

☾ tsukishima has a slight curve to his spine and you can sometimes see his spine poke out when he bends over, along with cute little back dimples. he’s obviously on the thinner side and his appetite isn’t the biggest, so I think he’s got a really fast metabolism and it’ll take some effort if he ever wanted to bulk up.

☾ kageyama has bacne scars along his shoulders and back, I also feel like he has wide feet and a low arch to them. he’s also got acne along his forehead and hairline because of his bangs that sit in his face all the time. and his knees and elbows tend to get ashy when it’s cold out.

☾ hinata doesn’t like how skinny his arms are and he only has one dimple on his right cheek, as well as a prominent Cupid’s bow. I also think he tends to break out along his nose and his T-zone is a little oily. plus his ears stick out in a really cute way.

☾ it’s mentioned kiyoko has scars on her legs from doing hurdles in the past, hence why she wears long stockings. but I also think her thighs are bigger and so that’s another reason why she wears long stockings, she doesn’t like the way short ones dig into her skin and it overflows a bit at the top. plus her hips are on the smaller side so she has hips dips.

☾ yachi isn’t as shapely as she would like to be and is a bit insecure about her chest size. so she might need a bit of reassurance every now and then, something kiyoko is more than happy to give advice on. plus she’s got shorter eyes lashes that are blonde like her hair, so she’ll sometimes put on mascara. I also think her lips are more on the thinner side.

.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.・✧・゜・.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.

tags: @elektrosonix || @rarr-com1452z || @suga-tofu

.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.・✧・゜・.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.

[lunarliza]

Dirty Little Secret | Chapter Two: Palm Trees

fuckbuddy!JJ x Kook!Reader 

series masterlist | chapter one 

You and JJ are fuck buddies- strictly physical. But what happens when you find yourself falling more and more for everyone’s favorite golden boy even though all he can see you as is a spoiled rich girl? 

note: just wanna thank ya’ll for all the support! so glad you guys like this. there is smut and drug use under the cut btw 

Three Months Ago-

“Shit,” you heard someone curse. 

You met eyes with an unfamiliar curly blonde boy who mimicked a deer in headlights as he perched down under the tall wooden fence. 

It was a fine, breezy morning. You had set up a blanket on a small patch of sand, under a shady palm tree, just behind someone’s large fenced backyard on the edge of the Eight. You figured no one could catch you casually smoking your pot in the secluded area. 

That was, until a pair of skinny legs darted into your hideout. You quickly hid your joint behind your back while his sea blue eyes pierced yours, but not in an intimidating way, more like a raccoon getting caught with food. He wore a dirty white tee, sleeves chopped off, and torn board shorts. He had bracelets trailing up his arm with ‘JJ’ written across multiple beads. You could tell right away he was from The Cut. 

“What the fuck! Who are you-” 

“Shh no no no,” he held a finger up to your lips. “You did not see me here.” 

He attempted to scurry away, but you caught onto his ankle before he could. “Wait!” 

He plummeted over onto the sand and groaned in response. “What the fu-”

You craned your neck at the fallen twinkie. “Are you stealing?” 

Having just moved to the Outer Banks six months ago, you didn’t know much about the culture besides what made up Figure Eight. From what you were told, the island was basically split between two crowds. 

Ted detested The Cut and anyone associated with it. He called them low lives, thieves, rats. One time, Macy went on a play date with a friend from school there. Once Ted found out where she was, he stormed over, pulled her away from her friend, and threatened the family before flooring the car back home. Since then, he forbade your family to go anywhere near the area. Ted wasn’t a man of many words, but the anger in his eyes that day made it clear he was not kidding around. 

“What?” the boy scoffed, “I’m not stealing, just-” 

“Disrupting the neighborhood?” 

His face knotted in confusion. “Something like that... look what will it take for you to keep quiet about this?” 

You shrugged, kind of enjoying his desperation. You weren’t planning on ratting him out at all, but this was the most entertainment you had gotten all week, so you decided to play along. You tapped your chin, “Hmm, perhaps-” 

“Before you continue, princess,” he mocked, gesturing towards the arm you had behind your back, “you might wanna rethink snitching when you have all that dank on you. How would your parents feel if they found out their precious Kook daughter was smoking weed?” 

You rolled your eyes and flipped him off. “Carry on, asshole.” 

------------------------------

Later that night, you were dragged to a party at the famous Boneyard by your friend Jade- a petite social butterfly with a heart of gold and the most toxic dating history you had ever seen. 

She was one of the few friends you made since moving to the OBX. Jade knew of how much you hated life at the Eight, but still tried to include you in as many events as she could. Despite growing up with insanely rich doctors as parents, she herself didn’t quite fit the spoiled Kook mold either. She had her kinks, and you liked it. 

“Jade, I’m not sure about this. If Ted finds out-” 

“Girl, you are fine! Just say you’re with me and my parents will cover. Trust me, they think I’m at some study session right now,” she assured.

“But finals aren’t til next month.” 

“Exactly! See how much they care?” 

Hand in yours, she led you to a spot on the beach where a crowd of people pranced around a bonfire. You could tell it was a mix of Pogues, Kooks, and some tourists in town for Spring Break. 

“Care for a beer ladies?” a tall, tan boy asked as he held out two red cups to you and Jade. You happily accepted, and the guy dared you both to chug your drinks. You shook your head with an ear-stretched grin, attempting to gulp as much of your beer as you could take. 

The confidence juice soared into your throat. It tasted absolutely atrocious, but you were determined to finish it. 

For the first time since moving to the island, you felt alive. The two of you tossed the empty remains into a trashcan and Jade cupped your cheeks with her French-manicured hands. “Isn’t this awesome!” she exclaimed and began shaking her hips to the electronic music- her excitement as contagious as ever. You immediately joined her, the alcohol coursing through your body. 

After a few songs, the same boy who offered you the beers crept up behind Jade’s 5’2 frame. He ran his hands along her hips as she grinded back onto him. 

‘Is he cute?’ she mouthed. You threw your head back laughing, giving her an encouraging nod. She went back to being smitten with her newfound man while you continued to dance by yourself, the outer skirts of your dress gliding up as you moved. 

“Well, it’s funny how the tables turn don’t it?” you heard a haughty voice trail behind you. 

You turned to see a shirtless boy double fisting bottles of cheap beer. His back was towards the fire so you couldn’t make out his face completely. Though, something did click in your half-drunken mind at the sight of the beaded bracelets on his wrists.

“You’re the Pogue from this morning,” you stated, staring intently at his sharp features. He was kinda cute in the dark, murky beach air. 

“Fancy seeing you here on our turf,” he rudely replied taking a swig of beer, “not sure who invited you, but here, we have a strict no spoiled bitches policy.” 

The audacity was so potent, and you were taken aback. “Excuse me?”

“Fuck off JJ! Y/n’s my friend, and I invited her,” Jade interjected from a few feet away, “go mack on one of the tourons and leave her alone.” 

“Whatever, Kooks.” The blonde scoffed and jogged away from the crowd, back towards a group of kids sitting on a log. 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his brash comments. Even with Ted’s aversion towards them, you didn’t quite understand the Pogue-Kook rivalry. You once asked Jade about it to which she just shrugged and said, “It’s just how it is.” 

She personally didn’t have anything against Pogues- as one was currently shoving his tongue down her throat in that moment. Though you didn’t interact much with their group, they seemed fine to you. Minus grumpy Goldey Locks on the log. 

Lost in your thoughts, you hardly noticed the tourist boy in front of you offer a shot of his Tito’s handle. The last time you had vodka, the awful taste nearly climbed back out your throat. But you were too fed up with your family and the Pogue boy’s irritating remarks to care. You closed your eyes, dipped back, and let the boy, dressed head-to-toe in Outer Banks merch, pour whatever he had in your mouth. It didn’t take long before everyone around you started looking fuzzy. A thumping noise in the back of your brain told you that you were way past your limit of about a sip and half. The music began sounding like loud thuds and you had no idea where Jade was. With all the strength you could muster up, you trudged up the beach back towards some palm trees to catch a breath, away from the clammy crowd. 

With one hand on the rugged trunk you bent over, knowing your stomach was rejecting all the alcohol you consumed that night. With one glance back towards the party, you felt the bitterness shoot its way back up your body and out hurled everything you drank onto the ground, a few coughs following. 

Out of nowhere, you felt a hand slide up your back as you lifted your head to see a hazy mess of blonde hair. “Here,” the snarky boy offered, holding up a water bottle, “you’ll feel better.” 

Begrudgingly, you took a few sips and handed it back to him. “Thanks.” 

You could see the party was starting to fizzle out, the water sobering you up. He downed the rest and tossed the empty bottle. 

“Fucking hell,” the guy, JJ, uttered, “You Kooks are way in over your heads.” 

“What’s your problem with me anyways?” you snapped, straightening up so you could meet his eyes. “I didn’t rat on you today! But now I’m thinking maybe I should have!” 

“See that’s the problem right there! You didn’t even catch me doing anything wrong. You just assumed I’m doing something bad because I don’t shit money out my ass.” 

“Well were you doing something bad?” 

“That is besides the point.” 

Your eyes were aching to roll out of your head. You hated the way he was talking to you and decided to play into this little hate-game of his since he seemed to get such a kick out of it. 

“Well, maybe if you kept your filthy head out of our side and up your own ass instead, we wouldn’t have an issue now would we?” 

He huffed and inched closer, causing you to back up against another tree, away from the vomit on the floor. “You entitled bitches think you know it all, probably from all that rip-off dank blowing up your head.” 

He was so close you could smell the faint alcohol on his breath. You were completely sober at that point, focusing on the eyes that probed into yours as JJ’s hands reached up to the sides of the tree, fencing you in. The music from the party was hardly a whisper compared to the tension between you two in that moment. The night was humid, but you weren’t sure if you were sweating from the heat or your jolting nerves. 

Then, a rush of boldness swept through you. 

“You talk a lot of shit for someone’s who’s dying to get into a Kook’s pants,” you tempted, glancing briefly at his lips. You then chose to taunt him even more- biting your own and sticking out your slightly exposed chest in the bodice of the dress you had on. 

He dauntingly moved closer, your faces only inches apart. “In your fucking dreams sweetheart,” he muttered before capturing your lips.

It was a hungry, needy kiss. You hardly knew anything about him, yet you didn’t protest when his hands reached up your stomach to roughly cup your boobs. They then glided down under the thinness of your dress to eagerly squeeze your butt. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, feeling the bareness of your ass underneath. His palm slapped your asscheek so hard, you were sure the entire beach could hear. 

Your hands crept down his bare chest, tracing over to his abs. Still on your ass, his hands kneaded at the swollen cheeks. You felt him pull away slightly after a bit. 

“Ever wonder what it’s like to fuck a Pogue?” 

“Just shut up and take me,” you answered hastily. His coarse hand trailed against your lower folds. He stroked over the material of your soaked thong before pushing the string to the side, his middle finger rubbing you gently. 

You reached in the band of his shorts to feel his hardened cock. You ran your hand up and down the shaft before exposing it out completely. He quickly lifted your leg to drape across his waist as he situated his length to your hole with his sweaty forehead resting on yours. 

Slowly, he pressed himself into you as a loud moan emerged from you both. The boy swiftly held his palm to your mouth while you felt him stretch you out slowly. Your eyes rolled back in bliss. 

“Fuck this pussy is tight,” he slopping mumbled in your ear as he continued, feeling your wetness grip him. 

He held a steady pace for a while before he suddenly halted and pulled out. Before you could protest, he grabbed the sides of your arms and whipped you around so you were facing the tree. When he snatched each side of your hips to pull you towards him, you quickly caught on, spreading your legs apart while arching your back so your ass was perked up and ready. He held his pulsing length in his hands, lining himself with you, before shoving it in full for you to take.

He bent over onto you and seized your chin with one hand to spin your head back for another kiss, tongue and all. “You look so pretty taking this dick,” he rasped as your careless whimpers echoed. 

JJ pounded deeper and deeper in you, yanking down the front of your dress so your breasts plopped free. He massaged them in his hands from behind. In response, your arched your back more, wanting to feel him- all of him inside you. As his thrusts slowed, he pulled out and pumped himself a few times before coming on your right asscheek. He slapped the left when he was done. 

You were breathing heavily, collecting yourself as you straightened up. “Not bad,” you panted as a cocky smirk rose on his face. 

------------------------------

note: WHEW CHILE! 

chapter 3

tags: @starkeybaby @obxlife @poguesforlife @everydayimfangirling @iamaunicorn4704 @tangledinsparkles 

[queenxxxsupreme]

Safety

A/N: Okay. My new favorite thing is Geralt saying good girl I’m definitely going to have to do some nsfw nasty shit now I'm pretty sure I have to go back and proof read so don't mind any mistakes. This is shitty btw. I just wanted some protective Geralt

Warnings: mentions of an attack, implied murder, protective Geralt:)

Word Count: I’ll add it later cause I dunno🤷‍♀️

Summary: After finding that you were attacked in your own home while he was gone, Geralt seeks revenge. That doesn’t sit well with you. 

The sun was beginning to rise. Through one of the bedroom windows, you could see the clouds shift in color from where you sat in the corner of your room furthest from the door. Your knees were pulled to your chest tightly, one arm wrapped tightly around your legs while the other held your dagger close. 

You were exhausted, your eyelids heavy from lack of sleep. You had been sitting in the corner for nearly the night. You couldn’t bring yourself to close your eyes or even leave the corner. What if they were still out there? What if they came back? 

The sound of the front door opening caught your attention. Your heart started to beat in your chest as you listened to whoever it was move about. Your fingers tightened around the hilt of your weapon. You prayed to whatever higher being there was that they’d just leave, that they wouldn’t cause you any harm. 

The footsteps were quiet but heavy. Whoever it was had begun to move down the hallway towards your room. Had you not been in such a state of panic and still in shock, you would’ve recognized the footsteps. 

You cowered in the corner between your bed and the wall, sinking as much as you could into the wall. You closed your eyes tightly and held your breath as you waited for something to happen. The tears in your eyes betrayed you as they trailed down your cheeks. 

A hand tentatively touched your arm. You cried out and slashed at the person with your dagger. He hissed and muttered a curse word under his breath. You immediately opened your eyes to see Geralt of Rivia kneeling in front of you. 

“Geralt.” You whispered out his name. The dagger in your hand fell to the floor with an echoing clank. He forgot about the cut you’d just put on his forearm as you threw yourself into his arms. You weren’t going to wait for an invitation. 

His muscular arms slipped around your frame, his hand coming up to cradle your head to his chest.

“Are you hurt, dove?” Those are the first words he utters out. There was so much blood in the kitchen and living room that he feared you were fatally injured. 

“No.” You sniffled, burying your nose further in the warmth of his clavicle and neck. “I-I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“What happened?”

“Just hold me, my love.” Your voice was shaky. You held him as tight as possible, your fingers taking ahold of the back of his shirt. You just needed to calm down. You needed him to just be there. 

Geralt effortlessly stood up, keeping you in his arms, and moved to sit on the edge of your bed. You sat across his lap, your legs curled up beside him. He was silent as he held you, allowing you to cry and squeeze him as much as you needed. Countless minutes passed before you pulled your face from his neck. His hand came up to cup your jaw, the rough pad of his thumb brushing across your cheek to get rid of the tears.

“It-It was dark when they came.” You looked down at the pendant hanging around his neck. He never took it off. You picked the cold metal up and began to mess with it, needing something to keep your hands busy. “There were three of them. They were.... They were drunken bastards.”

“Did they harm you?”

“I’m okay.” You assured him, though you knew he could see the cut on your temple and your busted lips. 

“Your dress is torn.” He quietly noted, his hand brushing over the skirt of your dress.

“They had knives.” You shook your head. “But I-I remember what my brother taught me. I used my dagger.”

“Did you get one of them?”

“I maimed all three.” You smiled proudly. 

“Good girl.” A little smile crossed his lips for a brief second.

“I-I might’ve killed them. I don’t know, or really care. They were speaking of disgusting, vile things they wanted to do to me.”

“Do you remember what they looked like?” 

You nodded and proceeded to describe the three assailants to him. The most helpful details were what injuries you inflicted on them. One hand been sliced in the palm and then again on the forearm. Another was cut across the cheek. The third was stabbed in the leg. 

Your eyes caught sight of the cut on his forearm that had stopped bleeding by now.

“Did I do that?” Your voice lowered as you took Geralt’s arm and placed it in your lap.

“It’s okay, Y/N-,”

“I hurt you.” You cut him off, gazing up at him with fresh tears in your eyes. It tore you to pieces knowing you had hurt him. He was undeserving of the cruelty the world gave him. You were determined to be the one good thing in his life, the one thing that would never hurt him. “I’m sorry.”

“It was an accident, dove.” He leaned forward to kiss your nose. You took the skirt of your dress and gently wiped the wound, clearing the blood from his skin.

“I’m so sorry, Geralt.” 

“Stop apologizing.” He grunted. 

Movement coming from the kitchen caught your attention. Your fingers wrapped firmly around his forearm. Geralt could hear the way your heart started to beat faster.

“It’s just Jaskier.”

“Geralt! Geralt! Is Y/N okay?”

Geralt sighed out as he moved you off of his lap and started to stand up.

“Don’t leave.” You quietly begged. 

“I’m going to help Jaskier clean the mess. I’ll be back shortly.” He assured you.

“I can clean it later. I just want you right now.” You furrowed your eyebrows together. You hated how needy you sounded but you had spent the entire night fearing you were going to die. You just wanted your witcher to hold you. You knew you were safe from anything in his arms.

“Five minutes.” Geralt assured you. You watched him leave your bedroom, a soft sigh escaping your lips.

***

Five minutes had long since passed. You were growing anxious the longer it took for Geralt to come back.

When you decided you'd had enough, you left your room and went out into the kitchen. Jaskier was in the living room, idly going through the books you had piled on an end table.

"Where is he?"

Jaskier jumped, having not heard you enter. He stood to his feet and turned to face you.

"Y/N, hey! Hi! How are you?"

"I'm fine, Jaskier. Where's Geralt?" You didn't see his sword on the table where he often left it when he was here.

"He went into town. Did he not tell you he was leaving?" Jaskier sat down on one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

"No, he didn't." You sighed gently. You knew he'd return. He'd have to come back for Jaskier. It was only a matter of when. You shook you head and moved to the kitchen. "Are you hungry, Jaskier?"

***

It was well past midday before Geralt returned. Jaskier was asleep in your home while you were outside, tending to the flowerbed, when you heard the sound of horse hooves. You lifted your head, taking your gloves off as you watched the witcher approach your cottage.

As he tied Roach to a tree, you stood up and brushed the skirt of your dress off. When he got closer to you, you could see a tiny cut on his face and his knuckles were busted. Your stomach clenched.

"What did you do, Geralt?" Your words were quiet whispers.

He held your gaze for a few heartbeats before looking to your cottage.

"I wasn't going to let them come back when I'm not here."

"Geralt...." You trailed off, shaking your head.

"Don't look at me like that, Y/N."

You turned and went into your cottage without another word.

"Dove, the men were pigs-,"

You spun around to face the witcher, catching him off guard. You both stood toe to toe, you looked up at him.

"They didn't deserve to die, Geralt."

"They were going to rape you, Y/N." His voice was calm as he held your gaze. "I'm not here all the time to watch over you. I did it to ensure you're safety."

"Ensure my safety." You repeated, nodding your head softly. "And what if someone from the village hears of a maiden who holds the heart of the witcher living just beyond their woods? What if they learn of what I mean to you and they come for me thinking that doing away with me will somehow ensure their safety?"

"No one is going to bring you harm, Y/N." Geralt's voice dropped an octave, effectively making his already deep voice deeper and almost intimidating.

Killing the three villagers was a dangerous move on his behalf, but he'd been careful when he slaughtered them. No one saw him near the dead men. There was no way they'd tie the deaths back to him.

"It's as you said, my witcher." You spoke softly, looking down at the pendant that hung around his neck. You picked the cold metal up off his chest and brushed your thumb over the wolf. "You aren't always here to protect me."

"Then perhaps it's time you move elsewhere." He suggested. His hand clasped your wrist, tugging it away from the pendant. His thick fingers laced in yours.

"There is nowhere else for me to go, Geralt." You brushed your thumb over his busted knuckles. He flinched just slightly from the sting. "I don't have anyone anywhere. I have you, but you're as free as the hawk that keeps feasting on my hens."

He watched you as you pulled your hand away from his and used that hand to cup his cheek.

"I'll be just fine, my love. You need not murder every drunk man who crosses me the wrong way. If you did, the entire village would be no more."

"I can't lose you, Y/N." His brows drew together as he leaned his head down to rest his forehead against yours. "If I lost you, who would I have to keep my icy heart?"

"Stop it." You kissed his cheek.

"This will make for a wonderful ballad." Jaskier clapped his hands together. Geralt sent him a glare, the witcher's chest vibrating with a grunt of disapproval.

"I need to go to the market." You told the men, patting Geralt's chest lovingly as you moved away from him. "I didn't know you both were going to show up so I have no food."

"Jaskier will go with you." Geralt took his sword and it's sheath off and placed it on the table. "If I return to the village the same day that three men lost their heads, the villagers may react poorly."

"Oh, I imagine anyone would react poorly to that." Jaskier muttered.

"I'll be back before dark." You retrieved your cloak from the hook by the door and put it on. You turned to look at Geralt. "Get some rest."

"That won't be happening."

"Then what do you plan on doing?" You inquired, raising your brows just slightly. A little grin played on your lips.

"Check the woods."

"Of course." You chuckled softly. He always walked the forest surrounding your cottage twice during his visit, just to ensure no supernatural creatures had set up camp nearby. "Jaskier? Will you go get my horse ready?"

"We aren't walking? Oh thank the gods!" He exclaimed before excitedly leaving your home.

The second the door closed behind him, you crossed the room and embraced Geralt in a hug.

"Be safe, my witcher." You leaned up to kiss his jaw.

"You as well, my keeper." He relished in your touch, his amber eyes twinkling as he gazed down at you. "Keep Jaskier out of trouble."

"That's easy. The hard part is leaving you."

"When you get back, we can send Jaskier elsewhere." Geralt ducked his head down to brush his nose along your jaw.

"That sounds like a lovely idea."

A/N: If you want to be added to my taglist for Geralt fluff let me know. I'm hoping to do some NSFW shit too so let me know if you want to be on that list too. I'll tag you when I post new shit💕

Taglist: @hm-fck @riviawitch3r @notyouraveragemochii

[mrsdobrik]

Could you do one where Yn is pregnant but she was past her due date and so she has to a bunch of stuff so that she can go into labor? And like David is helping her? Love you writing btw!!!

Hey love! Thank you very much! I hope you enjoy this 🤍🤍🤍

“How is she doing today? Still no news of the little one?” Natalie asked as David sat by her side on the couch. 

“Nothing. We went to see her doctor yesterday and she gave her a list of things to try to get things moving. She said that if he is not born by next week they are going to have to induce her and for some reason that made Y/n very upset, apparently it’s way more painful that way” David tried to explain. As he finished his sentence the door of the master bedroom opened and a big, round stomach poked out, the rest of Y/n attached to it. One of her hands was resting on her stomach and her face showed how uncomfortable she felt. 

“Hey, love. How are you feeling?” David said, opening his arms so she would sit next to him. 

“Very big and uncomfortable.” She replied, taking David’s hand to help her settle on the couch. 

“I’m sorry, babe. I wish there was something I could do to help” Dave kissed her stomach and talked into it “Hey there little one, you are making your mom really uncomfy. I know you love it in there but you are overcooking, it’s time to come meet us” 

“I love him but I want him out of my body. Sweetheart, could you get the list the doctor gave us? Maybe we can try some of the things out.” Y/n suggested. 

“Let’s see...” Dave started once he found the piece of paper. A chuckle escaped his lips as he read the first one. “You are not going to like this one. Exercise is the first thing on the list.” 

“Read number two then. I can barely get out of bed, my back and feet are killing me. Exercise. The audacity.” She replied fully serious, making Dave and Nat share an amused glance. 

“I think the second one is great! The second one is sex.” Said David with a satisfied grin. Y/n responded with a cold glare. 

“I want to get things OUT not IN. Next.” 

“Acupuncture” 

“No thanks. Next” Y/n declared. 

“Okay. Drinking castor oil, eating dates.” He read out loud. 

“I guess I can try those” Y/n said scrunching her nose. “Anything else?”

“Well, there is raspberry leaf tea and acupressure” David finished the list. 

“Those sound better. Let’s start with those and if that doesn’t work will move to castor oil and dates.” Y/n said. 

“I’ll ask Taylor to get all this stuff and I’ll google acupressure then” Nat said taking charge and leaving the expecting parents alone. 

“Why don’t we go for a walk? It says here that that can help.” Dave suggested rubbing the back of Y/n’s hand with his thumb. 

“But I’m tired” Y/n pouted. David knew she wasn’t lying because he had felt the mattress shift endlessly during the night, especially the past couple weeks. Between getting up to pee every half hour and then trying to find a comfortable position to fall asleep in she was barely getting any rest at all. 

“I know love but we should really try, maybe just a few minutes and then we’ll come back” Dave encouraged her. 

“Well, we can’t be gone for more than twenty minutes because there are no café’s nearby and I will pee myself if we are not back by then.” Y/n conceded. 

Dave smiled at her and stood up. Y/n tried to position herself in a way where she would be able to stand on her own but ultimately frowned at her failed attempt. 

“I need help. I hate this couch.” Y/n pouted, making David laugh. 

They walked for about twenty minutes before going back to the house as Y/n waddled for the toilet. After that they sat by the counter, all the things the doctor had recommended to induce labor were placed in front of Y/n. 

“Why couldn’t it be Nutella? It just had to be dates and castor oil.” She sighed and picked up a date. 

Despite her internal disgust Y/n managed to eat all the dates and drink the recommended amount of castor oil and the raspberry leaf tea. Still the baby seemed in no rush to leave the comfort of his current habitat. 

They watched a movie and tried some acupressure but ultimately Y/n and David headed to bed just as disappointed as they had woken up. 

“Maybe he’ll come tomorrow, love. We’ll try it all again if you want.” David tried to cheer his wife up. 

“I really don’t want to get induced so I’ll do it all again, I guess”  Y/n sighed, disheartened. 

“If you want we can always go back to number two.” David winked, getting a smile out of her. 

“Sweetheart, point number two is what got me in this situation in the first place. I want it nowhere near me, trust me.” 

Y/n’s night was just as restless as the previous one had been, except on this night she had a dream, a dream where she was having contractions. She suddenly felt a bit wet and hurried to get out of bed thinking it might be a bladder accident. As she stood up however a gush of water came from between her legs. She stood there for a moment, trying to process what was happening and trying to figure out if it was just a dream. A strong contraction made her stomach grow hard giving her the reassurance that she needed. 

As it passed fairly quickly she decided there was no point in waking David just yet and headed for the bathroom to get cleaned and changed. As she did she timed the contractions that were quickly coming closer and closer apart. By the time she was fully dressed they were getting pretty strong and she felt it was time to wake up the reinforcements. 

“Dave, sweetheart” Y/n said, softly waking him up. “Babe, my water broke” That made David jolt awake. 

“Oh my god! It’s time! Do I have time to get dressed? It doesn’t matter lets just go” David panicked, making Y/n giggle. 

“Sweetheart it’s not like in the movies. He won’t just fall out. You can get dressed and then we’ll leave. I got ready so I just need to grab the bags.” Y/n explained.

David, however, still wasn’t convinced that giving birth takes a long time so, after putting on the first t-shirt and pants he could find, he started rushing Y/n towards the door. What did convince him were the long hours that followed. 

After their arrival at the hospital it took four hours of agonizing pain to get baby Liam to his father’s arms. And by agonizing pain we are referring purely to David who seemed more affected by Y/n’s contractions than the mother herself. 

Tears of joy welled both the new parent’s eyes and after a really exhausting night Y/n was finally able to get some sleep while David held Liam in his arms on the couch next to her bed.

“Hey, little one. Welcome to the world. We are both really happy you are finally here, especially your mom. You were giving her a hard time in there weren’t you? But between us I get it, I wouldn’t want to be apart from her either. Your mom is pretty cool, a total badass. You should have seen her today, she was so strong. I felt like I was going to pass out and I wasn’t doing any of the work. And she is so funny and pretty, you are really lucky, we both are to have her in our lives.” David whispered to the pink baby in his arms, his sight shifting from him to his wife with only adoration for both of them.

[poptod]

All That Is and Forever Shall Be (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Description: Being a ghost in the middle of nowhere, tied to a church no one knows exists can be very lonely. Fortunately for you, a man is trying to make himself lonely, and subsequently gains your friendship that he didn’t ask for. 

Prompt: Abandoned churches

Notes: I know I’m kind of branching out of my usual Ahk/Kenny stuff, but I’ve been really busy lately and all I have are nearly-finished W.I.P.s I abandoned months ago. Sorry. As with most of my stories, I implore you to read them as stories, not as xreaders, because I severely let people down when it comes to fluffy interactions n such. Gender neutral again but fair warning, you’ve got a Scottish accent. btw i wrote this before my obsessive hatred of anything disney came up so

Word Count: 5.4k AO3 Link: All That Is and Forever Shall Be

No one visits my grave anymore, you thought to yourself drearily. The wind shivered through grass at your feet, howling through the holes in stone walls but not brushing your skin. You sat against said stone wall, one of the ends of the abandoned church of which was lined all round with gravestones, rotting away and empty with skeletons and vermin. Though above clouds promised a hefty storm, the wild sheep grazing outside the church’s fence didn’t make any move to seek shelter under the roof. Sighing once more you shifted in your seated position, wondering where everyone had gone.

Surely you weren’t alone - surely there had to be others like you. Not devout enough for heaven and not murderous enough for hell, but simply mundane and lonely enough to be cast back to the earth to wander as spirits. Though, you supposed, no one had dug a grave there in centuries, and during the time you were buried, it was odd if not damning to not be religious. Yet that was exactly what you were, an atheistic, boring farmer, who had no family and no children to speak of, leaving naught a person to seek your only remnants of what was once a life.

Hundreds of years must have passed since you died, but you would never know. The headstone with your name written on it (albeit blurred and dulled with time) tied you to the church, and you could never leave. For all you knew, all of humanity was dead. Or living on the moon.

Ultimately, on a day when it was raining hard enough to fill another ocean, you (or your anxieties) were proven wrong. From off in the distance came movement. High upon a distant hill a tall form lumbered near, dressed in dark clothing in a fashion you had never seen before. In patience grown from years built upon each other you watched, noting the sun behind you shining more red and vibrant than ever before growing dimmer, till the shadows cast the same as the light, and you could just barely make out the face of the distant man.

His face drooped wearily, limping as he moved and keeping his eyes down. Ragged, black hair fell from his head and covered a good deal of his face, shielding him from your view. Tilting your head to the side you noted weapons, a good many of them, hidden away in the folds of his clothing, strapped to his body with leather and blended in quite well with the various buckles and straps adorned like wreaths along his legs, torso, and shoulders.

As usual, there was no indication he saw you. From the way his eyes darted to each sheep upon their movement you could tell he was on edge, looking for suspicion even in the most innocent of animals, thus leaving no possibility that if you were visible he would not have seen you. You figured as much, seeing as the sheep never bothered about you too much - at least not unless you interfered with them.

Phasing through the wall you watched him clear a corner of the church, setting his bags down on the stone floor that had managed to not be ravaged by various wars. There was no fireplace, but seeing as the entire building was made of stone he simply gathered twigs from faraway trees, pulling a small box out of his satchel. In interest you came closer, and with your eyes pressed right up to his hands he struck a light. You gasped, watching how he made fire with such ease, lighting the wood and enveloping the long empty walls with warmth and familiarity. 

He set the small box on the floor, crouching down next to his bags. Though you weren’t very good at it you could read, carefully reading over the words on the box. Strike anywhere matches, it read.

What matches? You wondered.

In the corner the man mumbled to himself, nonsensical sounds you couldn’t make out as words. From his various bags he pulled a blanket, thick and warm, wrapping himself up in it in front of the fire. You sat beside him, watching the flames sing with their crackling. Every now and then he’d push his hand back into his bag, pulling out something to eat. You couldn’t tell what it was, but he seemed to like it.

Now near to him, you tried to get a grasp on what he looked like beneath unruly hair and grime covering his face, noticing cold eyes and a sharp jaw. Full lips, rounded nose, nice cheekbones. Closer, his hair wasn’t as dark as you’d originally thought - more of a brown than a black, though perhaps that was just the fire playing tricks on your own eyes. 

The rain brought its’ wrath above you, pounding on the sound structure of the roof. Looking the ceiling you thanked whomever for your inability to feel its’ sting, and cursed the very same for the lack of warmth the fire brought. 

The sound of writing came from beside you, curiosity forcing you to look to the man beside you. He had pulled a leather-bound book out of his satchel, along with a wooden pencil, and was writing in it. Illegible to you, but the scribbles were clearly english. In the margins were sketches, scenery, and a lot of sheep and goats. You chuckled, looking at the silly tongue sticking out of a goats’ mouth. He sniffed, stopping to rub his eyes from the raw feeling fire might bring before resuming his task.

This continued only a moment more before he tied the book back together, sealing it from your use. Setting it beside his makeshift bed he settled down, enveloping his entire body in the warm blankets he’d taken with him. You leaned against the wall, watching his breathing slow, watching as the fire died. Sometime in the middle of the night he began shivering, and you glanced at him, wishing you could’ve helped.

Curse my form, you thought to yourself, leaving the church to stand outside. To his luck the rain had lightened, the drafts of wind no longer pouring water through the holes in the walls, though the ocean that spanned in front of you forever would bring cold air that would surely freeze you, if you could only feel it.

You stayed there, sitting on a nearby boulder, waiting for when the sun would rise.

When at last from behind light came, signaling the beginning of dawn, rustling caught your attention. Inside the man had woken and you rushed to see him, watching him tie his hair back. Outside he wandered, coming to the rocky edge of the ocean and dipping his hands in the freezing water. With that he splashed it on his face, cleansing his skin of the dirt that had riddled it so heavily the night before. Shaking his hands dry he turned back around, showing cleaner features like you’d never seen before.

He looked much better, a little more calm at least, without the weight of all that on him.

You followed after him when he went inside, watching him patting a carefree sheep on the head as he entered. He restarted the fire the same way he had at first, with the strike anywhere matches. The two of you, ignorant of the other, huddled around it, the occasional sniff or shuffle of cloth interrupting an otherwise elongated silence. After a moment he pulled another item you assumed was food out of his ratted bag, impaling it with a nearby stick and holding it over the fire.

It grew darker as the flames grew warmer, nearly enveloping the stick to the point where it was hard to see the food. He just kept it there, letting it burn, before pulling it out right as it began to light aflame. Blowing a quick breath on it the small spark was extinguished, and he let it sit in the air before nibbling away.

How odd, you thought to yourself.

The rest of the day he did little else but unpack. Though he carried little, he seemed to want to make a stay longer than one night. Out of his various bags and satchels came food, blankets, and trinkets, many of which you couldn’t define any use for. Some were carvings of animals, others stones - just plain and simple stones. Some were shells, or sticks with bark and lichen growing on it. He set these things neatly in a row on a flat rock that had made its’ way inside the church, the corners of his lips twisting up into a crooked half smile when they were all ordered in a clean fashion.

That night he did not stay inside to write, or tend to a fire. He sat outside, on the grassy plain before the short drop onto the rocky terrain that lined the ocean’s shore. Book in left hand and pencil in right he began drawing dots, staring up at the sky every so often. Sitting beside him, following his eyesight you realized he was cataloguing the stars, finding shapes you’d never quite seen before.

With a hefty sigh he closed his book, simply staring up at the sky, before taking another breath and closing his eyes. In curiosity you kept staring at him, trying to find some answer in his silence, or a longing in his movement. There was none. 

You could not sleep. You dare not dream, as any dream would bring you closer to heaven or hell, and you would never chance the thought of hell. The man seemed similarly fashioned as you were, cut from the same cloth of sleepless, endless nights. In simple terms he did not sleep well that night, staring up at the dusty ceiling, hands folded together on his stomach and eyes wide. Through grunts and sighs, tossing and flipping he fell into an uneasy sleep, brows furrowed as he tugged at the soft blanket around him.

He seemed grumpy the next morning. Curt with every action, growling when things didn’t work well. When an unfortunate strike anywhere match did not do its’ intended duty, he threw the box to the ground, hiding his head in his hands and groaning loudly. You almost laughed, if you hadn’t been so worried of being heard. There was little cause for your worry, but it would’ve been rude if that was your first true interaction with him. 

From his bed he grabbed a large, fur coat, one that he used as an extra blanket, and tugged it over his shoulders and arms. Wrapping the belts tightly around him he sheathed each dagger and otherworldly weapon safely in each designated pocket, pulling a smaller bag over his shoulders and promptly leaving.

As you watched him climb over the hills you wondered to yourself, would he ever come back? You supposed, most likely, he would. What with the delicate care he took lining all of his stones and twigs together, he wouldn’t forget them, or his giant, fuzzy blanket, or the pillows, or the strike anywhere matches. Those seemed important too. 

To pass the time you took up your regular activities you had before the man had come. Wailing dramatically at your gravestone, staring wistfully into the distance at the shore of the ocean as waves crashed, petting sheep and desperately wishing you could actually feel them. Sheep, you’d discovered many years ago, were somewhat in tune with the dead. They would approach you sometimes, or avoid you if you’d somehow wronged them. Most of the time, if you were petting them, they’d stay still and push up into your hand as though you were really there. It was something you enjoyed immensely; a reminder that you existed. That your life wasn’t a fever dream.

Eventually, some time in the afternoon, he returned. Humming to himself a tune you didn’t know, he seemed in happier spirits than he was before, though keeping his coat on as he started no fire. Instead he pocketed one rock in one of his absurdly large pockets, had all his bags set down, and walked right back outside. With stumbling footsteps you followed behind, but as he wandered too far down the coast, leisurely strolling and taking in the views (though his left hand kept checking his knife was still there), you were very abruptly cast right back to the church.

You’d strayed too far from your grave, and now you sat upon it, cursing yourself once more. You kept your knee high, letting you push your chin against it to rest your head, though it needed no resting. In a somewhat maddening manner, you had no weight, no tangible existence, thus relaxing your head on your hand or knee did little for anything or anyone. Sitting grumpily on your gravestone, you waited for his return. He was the only entertaining thing around.

From the horizon he came, making you practically jump and gasp at his return. He breathed in deep, calm breaths, a contrast from his frustrating morning. Reentering the church he pulled another pebble out of his pocket, holding it in a large hand before setting it carefully alongside the rest of his collection. You watched from behind him, wondering if this was a religious ceremony.

The rest of the evening was spent watching him, notebook in hand, wander through the graveyard. Many of the names you recognized, as you had watched them be buried. You, however, were the first one to be lain underground, thus making your headstone the oldest. When at last he came to the front of the church, where the first stone had been cast, you fidgeted, wondering anxiously whether your name was even readable to someone who had never read your name before. 

It must’ve been hard at least, as he crouched down, squinting his eyes, pencil ready to write down the name as he had been doing with each of the others graves. He tapped the end of his pencil against his chin, continuing his rather menacing gaze, before seemingly understanding.

“Ah,” he said to himself, turning to the white pages of his book to write. “(Y/N) (L/N).”

You smiled, a giddy feeling blooming in your heart as he stood. As he turned, before he could even fully process what had happened, he jumped ten feet in the air, staring directly at you, panting with wide eyes. Despite his obviously much larger form he kept his hands defensively in front of him, his feet taking a firm stance in the wet dirt.

For a moment all you did was stare at each other, confused and perturbed in every sense of the word. 

“I… I can see through you. Thought… thought you, uh, might like to know that,” he said, and you could feel the smoothness of his voice in your mind, how warm it was and as deep as the sea his eyes held. You could barely understand him through a thick accent you’d never heard before.

“I know,” was all you could think to say. “I’m (Y/N). The, uh, one on th’ grave.”

He frowned, disbelieving. “No you’re not,” he claimed.

“I am. I can’t believe you can see me, actually, I haven’t been visible for many a year.”

“How do I know you aren’t lying?”

“Lying is a sin. I’m also see through.”

“Good point,” he mumbled gruffly, pocketing his notebook in another absurdly large coat pocket and wrapping the fur tight around him. He glanced at you warily, almost a scowl, before turning and going back inside the church. With light steps you followed, watching him sit down and start another fire.

With a bright spark a small flame started, growing higher and higher till it began to burn through large bricks of wood. You had so many questions for him, practically vibrating to hold back your need to ask them. What was life like? How many people were there? What new things had been found? Why had the church been abandoned?

At last when you couldn’t contain it anymore, you asked your most pertinent question.

“What’s your name?”

You leaned closer, kneeling beside him, eager for an answer. His eyes darted up at you from his crouched position, looking quickly back at the fire when he caught your gaze.

“Bucky,” he mumbled.

“Thas’ a nice name there,” you said quietly, matching his volume. “Was it yer’ fathers?”

“No,” he answered curtly.

“Oh. My name was a family name. Don’t mean much now I s’pose.”

In sudden movements he turned his body to face you, asking, “how long have you been here?”

“A good while now,” you shrugged. You hadn’t bothered to count the days, thinking it’d surely drive you mad.

“So you’ve been, uh, watching me,” he confirmed, his eyebrows still knitted together crossly.

“A tad. I think yer… interesting,” you settled on, smiling sweetly as you tried to catch his eye that had wandered to the ground.

“Hardly,” he muttered, turning back to the fire. You hummed, keeping your frown to yourself.

You only waited a few more seconds before asking more questions.

“What’s life like now? A haven’ been able t’ see for m’self.”

“Loud and crowded.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Can we breathe underwater?”

He turned to you, an amused but befuddled expression on his face.

“Not that I know of,” he answered. “Are you gonna leave me alone or not?”

You shifted uncomfortably, keeping your shoulders tense as you wondered whether you should lie to him or not. Could you even go back to being invisible?

“A don’t know. I cannae leave the church, but I s’pose I could try to go invisible,” you suggested meekly. “Why can’t you leave? Since you don’t like me.”

“I didn’t say that,” he snapped quickly, glancing to you for a second before looking right back at his well tended fire. “Don’t bother. With the whole invisible thing.”

“Oaye,” you said with a nod, curling up beside him, wondering if you’d ever achieve a form to feel warmth.

The two of you sat quietly, him staring at the fire unblinking, and you watching both the flames and him. Once a few minutes had passed, you noticed his eyes reddening with tears, a few trailing down his cheeks.

“You alright?”

“Yes. My eyes just burn,” he explained quickly, taking his sleeve and wiping them away with a sniff. You looked over the coat, noticing how warm it must’ve kept him.

“Where’d y’ get th’ coat?”

“… a friend,” he grumbled.

“Is very nice,” you commented, holding back the urge to reach out. It looked so soft, the fur fluttering in the wind, but you knew you wouldn’t have felt it no matter.

He grunted, but otherwise stayed silent. In all truth he felt very little animosity towards you, as you hadn’t done a mean thing yet, but as in all cases of meeting people, he was wary. Careful. You noticed this behavior, and to his gratefulness, respected his need for distance.

As the sky grew dark he tightened the drooping robes around him, sealing himself in warmth. Glancing quickly at him you noticed tired eyes, and began counting down the minutes to when he would fall asleep. You leaned forward, flames licking away at your unfeeling cheek.

“You going t’ sleep?”

“No,” he said, his eyes suddenly opening wide as he grasped at his large coat blanket, the creases growing larger with tension.

“Is fine if ye do. I’ll… go outside.”

You dwelled in his silence, watching carefully for his movement. A few more seconds of waiting proved fruitful as he slowly shifted, lumbering to his feet, and half waddling over to his makeshift bed. 

“The sheep need t’ be sheared. Could make a nice bed,” you commented in a dismissive manner, floating on through the wall. Inside you heard a soft flump, and the sound of ragged breath as the fire dimmed to an ember. 

Though you’d spent forever in solitude, it felt eons longer waiting for the sun. It was the first time since you died that you were able to talk to someone and earn a reply - the feeling, though anxious, was divine, and for a moment it felt as though you were real. That you were material, that you mattered, but you knew better. Everything would remind you that you knew better. You could stand in fire and survive, wade in the deepest oceans if only not tied to your headstone. 

And you could not feel his touch. Not once did you even try, and neither did he, out of respect for his boundaries, and fear of your own sheer existence. 

Perhaps you one day would feel. Your sensory deprivation was a special kind of hell, but you held hope, a thing that was not deserved.

The mornings arrival brought an end to dark thoughts. You stuck your head through the wall, watching the mound of blankets in the corner rise to reveal a dark matted head of hair. He stretched his arms high, letting out a light yawn before he stood.

“Mornin’ Bucky,” you said, shifting through the rest of the wall with a bright and friendly smile. He mumbled incoherently to himself, rubbing his face. “Anything t’ do today?”

“Going into town.”

You wanted desperately to come with. So much so in fact, that you almost asked, before remembering that it was futile anyways. You watched him sling bags over his shoulders, tightening belts and pulling his massive coat onto his arms.

“What are y’ gonna get?” You asked instead, eyes trailing after him as he left the church.

“You’ll see,” he said, which was not at all comforting. You frowned, making a grumbling noise to indicate your dissatisfaction with your answer. As he left you could see him just barely smile.

Patiently you waited, seated atop your grave, letting your finger drift through the grass, watching it part just slightly. With great concentration you could move tiny parts of the physical world, but it was never something you quite needed to do. What with being dead and all, you had close to no necessities, except an endless boredom which you’d gotten quite good at curbing.

When at last his matted hair rose above the grassy hills in the distance you looked up, watching him as he walked closer. His bag, hanging from his right shoulder, drooped heavily from his body, weighing down and creasing the material. He came to stand in front of you, dropping to his knees. Quietly, you watched him dig into the bag, pulling out a strange, silver rectangular object, decorated with knobs and dips all over it.

“What is it?” You asked, letting your hand phase through it.

“Called a radio. Got it at a thrift store,” he told you in a mumble, keeping his voice low. While you had absolutely no idea what a radio was or a thrift store (you could safely assume things were bought and sold there), a grin parted your lips.

“What’s it do?” You tried to interact physically with it, pressing a knob and letting it turn. In fascination you giggled, your eyes wide as you watched the different knobs turn.

“Plays music. Or just voices,” he said, pressing a button to the side of it.

Out of the silver box sprang a tune, singing brightly through crackling noises, filling up the old abandoned graveyard. You laughed, astounded at the sound, feeling your heart burst with joy. It had been so long you’d gone without music - it hadn’t ever crossed your mind, but now that you could hear it once more, you realized just how much you needed it.

“Woah! That’s… fantastic!” You gasped, getting down on the ground to look at the box from a different angle. “Where are the voices comin’ from?”

“Um… they can record sound now, and replay it, so that’s… kind of what’s happening,” he tried to explain, doing a poor job of it and drifting off when he found he had little idea what he was talking about. You didn’t mind though. All that mattered was that the voices were singing brightly, and that he’d done this for you.

“Thank you, so much,” you said with an air of amazement, looking up at him from your position on the ground.

“It’s just a thing,” he mumbled.

“Not to me.”

He swallowed thickly, turning away from you with a red face. You laughed, closing your eyes to enjoy the music more. Lying down, your hands intertwined on your chest, you could hear it better, just listening to the melody and the instruments you could never name. He listened just the same, keeping his eye on the horizon, and his knees close to his chest.

For a good while he sat with you, his foot tapping up and down anxiously and much faster than the beat of the music. When a particularly slow song ended he stood, stepping over your body even though he could’ve walked straight through. Societal norms, you explained to yourself, relaxing right back into the music.

When night approached the music stopped, and instead voices came. Just talking to each other, having some sort of conversation. Still you listened, absorbing the information they gave and understanding little.

You opened your eyes to the stars, and listening a little too closely to the voices you were surprised to see Bucky suddenly standing above you, covered in his furs and looking as tall and mean as ever.

“Are you coming inside?” Was all he asked, but the question confused you. Did he want you inside? Why would he want you inside? You would never actually voice these questions, but watching him stare at you with a rather angry expression, you needed to answer. 

“Uh - yes! Of course,” you said, stumbling to your feet. He grunted, reaching down to turn off the radio and gather it in his arms. You followed behind him into the church, hearing the fire crackle before you could see it. Inside was warm as ever, the light dancing in tandem with the shadows, intertwining around his shadow body and ignoring you entirely.

With a soft fwump he sat on the ground, on a rather soft looking cushion that you hadn’t seen before. Sitting beside him caused no creases, but gravity still seemed to work on you, making your body lean into his, but you pulled yourself away, still refraining from touching him.

He acted a very sensitive fellow, and though quiet and brooding, you knew saying little did not mean he felt little. On the contrary the people you’d met who were quiet often felt emotion intensely, and watching him set the radio on the ground gingerly, you kept this in mind. 

“It ’twas very kind of ye t’ get me that,” you said quietly, tilting your head to him with the prettiest eyes you could manage. He stiffened, pursing his lips together. This time he had no answer for you, just a silent and tiny turn of the head away from you.

Still you smiled, letting it reach your eyes and crinkle the pale, dead skin there. 

The rest of the evening he wrote in his little book, turning away from you whenever you tried to peer over his shoulder.

“I cannae read it anyway, yer handwritin’ is godawful,” you grumbled, crossing your arms. 

“It’s the principle of the thing,” he replied, and you didn’t really know what principle meant, but he smiled, so you did as well. After that, despite telling you off so many times, he let you look over his shoulder. You kept at a safe distance, watching him write but not near enough to be breathing in his ear.

As the fire began to dim he closed up the book, setting another log on the fire to keep it going till he fell asleep. You sat to the side of his pillow as he lay down, bringing the blankets over his body.

“What do ye write about in there?” You asked quietly, watching him intently as light flickered across his face. He sighed, rolling onto his side and looking up at you.

“My day. Or friends, sometimes memories,” he answered in an almost solemn tone, gentle and quiet.

“Memories?”

“I don’t remember stuff well. So when I do, I write it down,” he explained, half mumbling into his pillow. “I dunno, it’s stupid.”

“I think it’s sweet,” you hummed, running your hand over the stone of the floor. Lately you’d been practicing interacting more with the world, what with being visible again. He made a grumbling noise that sounded a bit like he was choking, pulling the blankets up to his nose. “What about your friends?”

“What about them,” he said flatly, voice muffled by the blanket.

“What are they like?”

Pondering your question before he answered, he shifted beneath the covers.

“I only have two,” he started, but you quickly interrupted.

“And me,” you said, earning a dissatisfied grunt.

“You’re dead.”

“And I don’t matter any less,” you defended. He hummed in quiet agreement before continuing.

“Steve’s nice. Big guy, bigger than me.”

You didn’t think that possible - Bucky was already enormous compared to you and everyone you knew.

“Then there’s… uh, Sam. I guess he counts. He’s a bit of an ass really,” he chuckled and you followed. “I forgot about Natasha. She’s a good fighter. Did a lot of shit to get like that, too.”

“Sounds like a fun group,” you said. He nodded, yawning and closing his eyes. You left it at that, waiting till his breathing was rough and even till you left to stare at the stars, and wonder what they might condemn or bless you to. 

In the morning he came outside, sitting beside you before you even realized he was awake. Yawning, wrapped in his fur blankets the two of you stared out over the ocean. He kept silent, the slow breathing matching the crashing movement of the waves. 

“I was thinking,” he said, his voice a murmur like the crackling of a dying storm. You turned, facing him, your head supported by your knees. “What ties you to your grave?”

“Probably my body.”

“Wouldn’t it have decomposed by now?”

“Decomp-what?”

“Long explanation,” he said, looking like he regretted bringing it up. “But I don’t think your body is… there anymore.”

“Who took it?”

“The ground did.”

“Oh.”

“So if it’s not your body, what do you think is tying you there?”

“My name holds power,” you said, recalling different tales. “Given to a witch she has power o’er me. Given to you, you may see me. It might be that.”

“What do you think’ll happen if we… erased your name from the headstone?” He asked, glancing in your direction but not fully meeting your gaze.

“Might disappear. Might be tied to you,” you shrugged.

“Tied to me?”

“You’ve got my name written in that there book,” you said, pointing towards his notebook poking out of his pocket. Shifting, he tucked it in deeper. He mumbled something you couldn’t quite hear, and patiently you asked him to repeat himself.

“It wouldn’t be that bad,” he said louder, still mumbling, a red blush gracing his cheeks that you could just barely see behind his falling hair.

“No,” you said, brushing his hair behind his ear. He shivered, fighting to lean into and away from your touch. “It wouldn’t be bad at all. Just… make sure you don’t lose your notebook.”

“Right,” he murmured.

Later that day you sat on your gravestone, watching as below you he took a stone, scratching out your name.

“Tell me if you feel something change,” he said, wiping the dust off the first letter gone. You nodded silently, somehow knowing you’d be alright. And if you weren’t, that’d be fine too. You’d been tied to your grave for far too long to care. 

As the last letter of your last name was swiped away, you expected something - an emotion, a movement, but nothing in the world swayed. All that was remained, including you, staring at the man before you. 

“I s’pose I belong t’ you now,” you murmured with a smile, one he easily returned.

“Guess so.”

“Does it bother you?”

“No..,” he said quietly, his fingers hovering over yours, tangling till they connected with yours. “Not at all.”

[seulgiology]

hugs and kisses | na jaemin

pairings: boyfriend!jaemin x girlfriend!reader

words: 1.6k

genre: fluff

synopsis: jaemin helps his girlfriend when she comes to him stressed because of school. (lmao sorry i’m bad at these)

warnings: lowercase intended bc i wrote this on my phone, but otherwise, none :P

a/n: hiii hello it’s adnim 2 here with some jaemin fluff for ya. wrote this while eating a variety of foods and jaemin has been on my mind a lot lmao so here y’alls go. wrote this on my phone btw so like if there are any typos, sorryyy i didn’t really go over it like i should’ve.

disclaimer: This is a work of fiction from our imagination. It is not intended that the plot, theme, original characters, idols, etc. portray any real-life events/people. Plagiarism is NOT tolerated on this blog. If you believe we have copied an existing authors’ work, please message us privately. thank you and enjoy :)

--

there was light chatter being heard through the class you were in. you weren’t a part of the chatter however because you were too focused on your assignment. 

for some reason, you couldn’t get your head fully focused today and you were getting frustrated. it seemed like the universe was against you today because suddenly a classmate of yours is sitting next to you. 

you slowly look up at her but don’t say anything, just give a curt nod of your head. “hey y/n, i noticed you over here working hard. do you need help?” she kindly asks. 

your eyes that was skimming the words on your laptop for the tenth time, suddenly stop. they narrow instead and your lips purse. your chest caves in and you feel your nose burning, throat constricting. you were going to cry. 

“i, uh— i’m fine but thank you,” you assure her, clearing your throat and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

you keep your eyes on your laptop, refusing to meet her gaze and it stays like that until she leaves. you release a shaky breath, not knowing what has you on edge today. 

maybe it’s the stress with the finals coming up next week and you’re overworking yourself. you couldn’t help it though as it was such a flaw of yours. you were up late last night going over a practice question that you just couldn’t get. it’s probably why you’re extra sensitive to your emotions today. 

when the class is dismissed, you pack up your stuff and leave the classroom. your feet are suddenly moving quicker as you walk the hallways filled with students. 

you’re just looking for one person. this one person is the only one who can calm you down. it was the end of the day and you know he had classes today. you weren’t sure what his last class was but you know it wasn’t in the same building as yours. his locker was in the same building and you knew if he wasn’t there, he was waiting for you in front of your building with his friends. 

you go to your locker first and grab your coat, putting it on over your clothes and putting your beanie on. your gloves and scarf are placed on after that and then you're rushing to look for him.

when you go to his locker, you whine under your breath when he isn’t there. feeling your emotions building up again, you sniffle, trying to keep them at bay so you won’t burst down crying in front of everyone.

the students aren’t in a hurry but they’re not trying to stay longer at school. shuffling around them was a struggle as well because when someone would even bump into you, it felt like you would just cry then and there. 

the entrance of the building couldn’t have appeared sooner. you knew he was waiting for you in the front of the building and that motivated you to push through the doors, the cold winter air slamming into you and causing a quick shiver. 

you walk down the few stairs and when your feet meet the cobblestoned ground, your eyes dart around in search of your boyfriend. there you see him near a tree with his friends, laughing wholeheartedly and saying something afterward. 

when your eyes tear up, you’re not sure whether it’s because you’re relieved to see him or your emotions are about to fully come to the front. it didn’t take you long to get to him and when you did, you made sure he saw you first. 

your hand touches his arm and he jumps a bit before looking down at you. a grin is immediately seen on his face but it’s slowly wiped away when he scans over your face. he knew something was wrong, he always did. 

his friends greeted you but you just nodded politely. jaemin didn’t say anything to you just yet and instead tangled your fingers with his, wanting to hold you closer but not wanting that to be your breaking point. 

“okay guys, we'll catch up later, take care of yourselves and get home safe,” jaemin tells them with a short nod of his head. they bid him farewell too and then the two of you are walking the route to his apartment. 

“princess, are you okay?” he softly asks, this time his arm wraps around your shoulder so you’re close to his side. his warmth was a stark contrast to the cold air but it made you relax a bit. 

“let’s talk when we reach your place,” is what you whisper and jaemin frowns at the tone of your voice, but complies nonetheless. 

usually, these days after classes, jaemin and you would go to this small cafe on campus to get some hot chocolate and maybe work on some homework there. other times, his friends would join. but if that wasn’t happening then the two of you would either go to his or your place. 

he knew you guys could go to the cafe any

other day, today would just have to wait because you’re more important. 

it took the two of you under fifteen minutes to reach his apartment. your feelings were pushing to the front the closer you got and when you guys reached his door inside, he let go of your hand to unlock his front door. 

jaemin closes the door behind you and it’s silent as the two of you take your winter wear off, replacing shoes with slippers. “let’s go to my room,” jaemin suggests and you can only nod, letting him take your hand and guide you to his room. 

you don’t even get to sit on his bed before you’re bursting into tears. the sobs shake your body and they’re so heart wrenching it hurts. 

jaemin’s eyes widen when seeing you break down but he jumps into action. his arms wrap around you, rubbing your back and running his fingers through your hair soothingly. his heart breaks hearing you cry so heavily and he doesn’t know the cause of it. he wanted to make you feel better but he would just hold you until you were ready to talk. 

even though you’re crying, you’re able to register your boyfriend’s arms wrapping around your upper body to the best he can. it’s as if he’s trying to protect you from the world and it makes you want to cry harder. 

“i’m sorry,” you manage to say between your sobs, pulling back slightly to messily wipe at your face. “crying like this out of nowhere, i suck,” you laugh sadly. 

“hey, no no, it’s okay y/n,” jaemin assures you, cupping your hot cheeks in his hands and wiping at them with his thumbs. “don’t apologize for having feelings, okay? it’s okay for you to cry and you don’t suck.”

you look into his warm, brown eyes with your own watery eyes and sniffle. you hug him again due to all the emotion you’re feeling towards him now, and he doesn’t hesitate to hug you back, squeezing you lightly. 

“do you want to talk about it, princess?” jaemin softly asks. you nod your head stiffly against his chest and jaemin pulls away, leading you to his bed. the two of you sit down and face each other. 

jaemin’s hands hold one of yours as your other hand is occupied with wiping at your tear-stained cheeks. 

“i’m a bit overwhelmed, i think,” you mumble, confusing yourself with your choice of words. “i don’t know if it’s because of the finals coming up and the fact i’ve been pushing myself past my limits. maybe it is but i don’t know, it’s just too much at once.”

you felt an apology at the tip of your tongue for your bad explanation and for wasting his time. but before you could, jaemin is pinching your chin in between his thumb and index finger, staring intensely into your orbs. 

“i know what you’re about to say,” he says and the light tone of his voice makes your bottom lip quiver. “you’re probably thinking you shouldn’t have said what you just said and that it’s silly. but y/n, it’s okay to feel the way you’re feeling right now. i can’t tell you what to do but i can suggest you take a break and try to slow down. i’ll be here for you like i always am, okay? if you decide to push yourself past your limits then i’m going right past them with you.” 

his words echo in your head for a solid minute as the two of you sit in silence. your lips part in awe to him because you just can’t believe he has so much patience for you. but at the same time, you can believe it. the love and adoration you feel for him can’t even be put into words so you want to show it instead. 

you grab the back of his neck and bring his face a little closer. jaemin seems to get the message and tilts your head upwards, placing his lips over yours. 

it’s a slow kiss but it’s enough to express your emotions. his hand moves from your face when you decide to swing your left leg over his legs, now straddling him and tangling your hands in his hair. “thank you,” you pant out, kissing him harder than before. 

“i’m always here for you, princess,” he whispers, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. you keep your eyes closed and caress the hairs on the nape of his neck. 

“always.” 

[akechicrimes]

7 or 71 for either shuake or yukamitsu [big eye emojis]

7. “I told you that I’d never leave you; I’m not going anywhere.”

On Goro’s thirty-fourth birthday at ten-thirty in the morning, Akira calls him at work and says, “Happy birthday, dear. I just got hit by a car, and I need to know what color bike you want.”

*

On Goro’s thirty-fourth birthday at ten-thirty in the morning, Akira calls him at work (which Goro dubiously eyeballs for a whole four seconds before picking up) and says, “Happy birthday, dear. I just got hit by a car, and I need to know what color bike you want.”

Well, neither Goro nor Akira own a car for Akira to drive, so that means Akira got hit on foot. Goro is very calm, and has no immediate panic response to that, because he’s a rational and responsible adult. “Are you dead?” Goro asks.

“Probably not.”

“And is there a reason you’re calling me instead of the ambulance?”

“Oh, I’m fine. I think I have a bruise on one of my legs, if that counts. But I was riding your bike when it happened, so the bike got totaled, so, you know. They’ve got the same model you had, but there’s tons of new colors, if you want pictures.”

Goro takes a very long, very deep breath. Goro is very, extremely calm. “Anything is fine,” he says. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, hundred percent. I even landed on my feet; you should’ve seen it.”

“You should go to the ER anyway,” says Goro, in a voice that is truly the epitome of calm.

“I mean, I guess I could, but that seems like a waste of time. And I don’t want to just leave your bike in the middle of the road.”

“Throw it away if it’s wrecked, then.”

“But it deserves a proper send-off.”

“You’re doing this to me on my birthday, Kurusu.”

“I’ll go to the ER if you go with me,” says Akira hopefully, who is a perennially bad influence who is of the opinion that Goro should have just said he’d be ‘working from home’ and spent the day with him.

Goro takes a look at his calendar, tallies up how many meeting he’d have to reschedule, and waits a whole five seconds before he lets himself say, “Fine,” because Akira just said that he’s fine and Goro isn’t upset and everything is so calm that Goro can wait five seconds before agreeing to leave work. “I’ll see you at Leblanc.”

“Wait, wait, which color for the bike? They’ve got green, blue, a red, a kind of fun rose-gold thing, which is a bit excessive considering it’s a bike, and teal, and a kind of blue and orange Naruto-y thing…”

“Anything is fine.” Goro stops. “Except the last one.”

“Red it is! See you in a bit.”

“Don’t ride that bike back to Leblanc,” says Goro, as if lightning might strike twice on the same day on the same man riding the same model bike of the same color, but Akira’s already hung up. Goro speed-drafts a rescheduling email, copy-pastes it to four different people, and then sprints out the office door without even a goodbye to his coworkers.

*

Friday, 11:16 AM

FUTABA: hey

FUTABA: hey goro

FUTABA: hey gorororororororororo

FUTABA: HEY MR AKECHI KURUSU

GORO: If it’s about the traffic accident, I heard about it.

GORO: I’m going back to Leblanc now.

FUTABA: no it’s smthg else

FUTABA: well it is about the accident but i got smthg else for u

FUTABA sent MOV19.mp4

FUTABA: ripped this from the traffic cam

GORO: Is this footage of the accident?

FUTABA: yeehaw

GORO: …Thank you for the offer, but I don’t know if I want to see this.

FUTABA: ok i hear u but i promise it’s hilarious

FUTABA: and also u might feel better if u see it

FUTABA: like idk what he told u on the phone but like

FUTABA: look the car even slowed down at the intersection

FUTABA: the dude was obeying traffic laws and everything he was doing something like ten under the speed limit

FUTABA: the car ENTIRELY missed akira

FUTABA: got the bike full on

FUTABA: and then he just rolls up across the hood and up the windshield like a looney toon

FUTABA: rip ur bike tho it just goes cronch

FUTABA: instant pretzel

FUTABA: ty bichael for ur sacrifice

FUTABA: also idk i figured you

FUTABA: might wanna see for urself that he’s okay

FUTABA: like u can see him stand up at the end and he’s not even confused or anything he’s super duper ok

FUTABA: he’s not bullshitting u over the phone and pretending he’s ok when he’s not ok

FUTABA: u know how he does lmao

GORO: …Huh.

GORO: He really did land on his feet for a whole second there, didn’t he?

FUTABA: yeah like a cat

FUTABA: it’s nuts tbh

FUTABA: and then he remembers he’s a human and falls on his ass LMAO

FUTABA: show it to morgana i want his professional kitty cat opinion on the matter

FUTABA: rate akira’s near death experience

FUTABA: also the driver was v nice and v apologetic and he gave akira his insurance

FUTABA: but i have his home address and work address and phone number and the name of his dog if you want it

GORO: Just the insurance will be fine.

FUTABA: kk

GORO: …And thanks for sending the video.

GORO: Even though I already knew he was fine.

FUTABA: you know those like

FUTABA: itty bitty teeny weeny micro dogs

FUTABA: that are like four and a half pounds

FUTABA: but they think they can take any mfer on the block out of sheer will alone

FUTABA: and theyve always got their eyeballs bulging out and they pick fights with 70 pound dogs

FUTABA: and they have only two emotions which are rage and anxiety and they shake constantly because theyre only four pounds and they have So Much Emotion and nowhere to put it so they vibrate at the speed of sound

GORO: Is this a metaphor about me.

FUTABA: it’s a metaphor about you

FUTABA: because i can hear your shaky angry anxious four pound vibrating all the way from the other side of tokyo

GORO: You are the smallest, angriest, most anxious person I know, who regularly picks fights with international hacking organizations and billion-dollar companies.

GORO: And I, somehow, am the angry shaky dog.

FUTABA: your husband got hit by a car on ur birthday

GORO: I know that.

GORO: I do not need to be reminded.

FUTABA: ah yeah

FUTABA: sorry

GORO: He’s fine.

GORO: He said he’s fine.

GORO: And from this footage, he’s more than fine.

FUTABA: he is super double extra fine with a side of fine

GORO: Unless this footage was in any way edited.

GORO: And unless he was faking his call, somehow.

GORO: In which case, I’m going to walk into Leblanc and find out that he was just pretending to be okay so he could hear my voice one last time and Leblanc will be swarming with police officers to break the news the newly bereaved.

GORO: But that’s not going to happen.

GORO: Because Akira is fine, and I’m perfectly fine.

FUTABA: im rly glad to hear my man

GORO: This footage isn’t edited, is it.

FUTABA: no

GORO: Are you very sure?

GORO: Videos are easily modified.

GORO: Would you even know if it was edited?

FUTABA: yes im a literal wizard of course i would know

FUTABA: where are u even getting this idea from

GORO: The entire series of events is unrealistic, isn’t it?

GORO: You said yourself that it was almost like something out of a cartoon.

GORO: The likelihood that someone gets hit by a car and comes out of it entirely no worse for wear is practically ridiculous.

FUTABA: i ripped that film straight from the cam it is entirely unedited

GORO: But how can you be sure? Did you see him in live camera?

FUTABA: i mean no but he texted me

GORO: What if that was his dying text.

FUTABA: i rly dont know if his dying text would have been the “i lived bitch” meme with the cat filter

FUTABA: he’s fine dude

FUTABA: that’s why i sent you the video

GORO: I KNOW he’s fine.

GORO: I’m asking if there’s any solid evidence.

FUTABA: THE VIDEO

GORO: I’m going to call him. Brb

FUTABA: so what he can tell you he’s fine AGAIN and you’ll be like

FUTABA: “oh but what if it was secretly a pod person who stole his body after he died tragically after calling me one last time to hear my voice”

FUTABA: he is FINE

FUTABA: like go ahead and call him if u want but

FUTABA: the only person who was gonna edit that footage was me

FUTABA: and if he were dead i would not be functioning enough to be doing any kinda photoshop like that

FUTABA: let alone LIE to you jesus christ!!!!!

FUTABA: god

FUTABA: i pronounce you King Shaky Dog

FUTABA: the tiniest and angriest and shakiest and most anxious four pound goblin

FUTABA: i will reclaim my title tomorrow

FUTABA: for now it’s my birthday gift to you

FUTABA: the title of Shaky Dog allows you to go absolutely apeshit and nobody will judge you

GORO: You know I hate birthday presents.

FUTABA: did you call akira

GORO: I hate birthday presents so much that I will be refusing my title as King Shaky Dog and will henceforth not be going ape shit.

FUTABA: ok so

FUTABA: i didnt mean to

FUTABA: get snippy with you or anything

GORO: It’s fine.

GORO: I wasn’t… exactly polite, myself.

GORO: So.

FUTABA: um

FUTABA: you really can call him if you want

FUTABA: there’s nothing wrong with that

FUTABA: between u and me……………………. i definitely did that more than once for a lot lesser reasons than someone getting hit by a car

GORO: My stop is in less than thirty seconds.

GORO: I will probably live.

FUTABA: lmao ok well

FUTABA: if u change ur mind about losing ur shit then please know i gave u that footage in the first place because i think if something like that happened to MY partner i would mcfreakin lose it

FUTABA: speaking of her

FUTABA: sumi says happy birth btw

FUTABA: but cuter because u know how she is

FUTABA: “happy birthday crow-senpai~~~~~~~~” in her shy voice that makes u wanna die

FUTABA: ofoogofhghhfoghfhhghfh g gh SUMI ur so cute ilysm

GORO: Tell her I said thanks.

GORO: And stop telling me how much you love her and use the ring you made me go ring shopping with you for.

FUTABA: HHHHH

FUTABA: im being cyberbullied for being a cowardly lesbian

GORO: I’m at my stop, by the way, so I’m going offline.

FUTABA: which tbh i probably deserve

FUTABA: oh kk see u

FUTABA: watch the video again mr shaky dog

FUTABA: akira is fine

FUTABA: everyone is alive

FUTABA: you are one year older

FUTABA: happy birthday goro

*

The bike is totaled.

Akira isn’t the sort of person to dump a piece of trash right in front of Leblanc, but it’s hard to miss sticking out of the nearby public trash bin. The back wheel has exploded into serrated wheel-spokes and limb rubber bits that Akira’s shoved into the trash as best as he could. The body of the bike is crushed in on itself, exposing its sharp hollow innards; the handlebars resemble a badly-tied knot. The front wheel is left to stick up and out, creaking gently, spinning overhead from half a hinge like a head not quite fully severed.

The cafe is empty except for its usual barista who, of course, is a very normal and mild-mannered barista, who has nothing to do with the several hundred millions worth of dollars of repatriated art hiding in the attic en route back to South Korea. That would be illegal, of course, and Akira Kurusu-Akechi has never once in his life done anything illegal in the name of what’s morally right. “Welcome back, dear,” says Akira, and hangs up a coffee mug to dry, and it’s so normal that Goro is convinced that either he’s experiencing yesterday, or maybe he’s re-experiencing the year 2016 all over again, or maybe Akira really is dead and this is just his ghost.

Goro sits in his usual spot at the bar. Same chair, sixteen years later. Unbelievable. Maybe Goro’s giving him a little bit of a dumbfounded look, because Akira tilts his head, leans across the bar, and pecks Goro on the cheek.

“Where’s Sakura?” Goro asks.

“Having his midday old man nap. So,” says Akira, looking pleased with himself, “either we can close Leblanc for an hour and raid the kitchen and make lunch, or we can close Leblanc and go out and have a fancy lunch. Your choice because I already made dinner reservations and we’re doing those no matter what.”

Goro really means to give him an answer, because Akira really does love Goro’s birthday every year and never fails to pick someplace nice for the day, but instead what comes out of his mouth is: “Did you ride the new bike back home?”

“Yeah, I did. Figured I might as well take it for a test drive. It’s a good bike.”

“Why didn’t you take the subway?” Goro says sharply.

“Didn’t have my card.”

“You just rode the bike all the way across Tokyo?”

“It wasn’t all the way across Tokyo, just a bit away and back… Goro?”

Ah, Goro’s going to become one of those people who has a meltdown any time their loved one gets on a plane or a train or ksomething else associated with heebie-jeebie nonsense magical thinking. Great. Fantastic. God dammit.

“Do you really want me to go to the ER?” Akira asks eventually.

Goro really wants Akira to have never gotten hit in the first place, but people don’t get what they want and sometimes the universe decides to send one bad fucking driver through a red light and take away Akira’s entire life in a split second—one mistake, a coincidence at the wrong place and time, and the boy who fought God and won is a smear of bones on the pavement.

This would be different if it were sixteen years ago, and Goro had the power to bend people’s minds in half until they broke, or dive into the deepest, bloodiest parts of the collective psyche and pummel the worst of them to a pulp—but what’s he going to do here? Lambast a guy who was going ten miles under the speed limit and just wasn’t looking the right way? Is he going to summon a new Persona from his soul and undo time itself?

Can he do anything if the universe decides, one day, that Akira’s time on this earth is up? He spent all those years desperate for power, and then abusing that power, and then desperately guilty for having abused that power, and then desperately trying to get up that power, and now here he is with the power to do jack shit when his husband almost gets run over and if the Metaverse were still around he swears he would have carved Loki from his own soul out of sheer fury alone—

“No,” says Goro sharply, and stands up. “It’s nothing. I’m not hungry, and I’m going for a walk. Please don’t text me unless it’s an emergency.”

“What—hey! Goro, wait, wait—”

“I’m getting some fresh air!”

Akira’s scrambling to get out from behind the bar. “Didn’t you just get here—?”

Goro spins around and points a finger at Akira like it’s his fault: “You were the one,” he snarls, “who promised, when we got married, that we’d always be together. And now you get hit on a bike, and then stand up like it’s nothing and—and get on another bike and go cycling around the exact same streets where you got hit—? Aren’t you scared? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

Akira falls silent. “I didn’t go back to the same intersection,” he says at last.

Goro can’t take this. “I’m taking a walk.”

“Wait wait wait, Goro, just—” Akira grabs Goro’s hand and Goro has the sudden urge to yank his arm away, but Akira’s hand is also incredibly real, just like it felt this morning and yesterday and the day before that and all the days Goro ever took Akira’s living, breathing body for granted. “I didn’t think it was a big deal. He was going, I dunno, twenty miles per hour at most. It was an intersection. He’d slowed down beforehand and everything, and I didn’t even get hurt on the fall.”

Right, because Goro’s the one who’s just freaking out for no reason. Right. Okay. Because that’s how he is, isn’t he, always being dramatic over little things. Right. Of course. This is fine.

When Goro doesn’t turn around, Akira moves around to the front to look him in the eye. “Sorry if I made you worry,” says Akira. “But it was really nothing at all.”

“Maybe it was nothing this time,” says Goro forcefully. “But what about the next time—the next car—the next time you borrow my bike? What about tomorrow? Or the day after that? Literally any one of the hundreds and hundreds of days coming up where you could easily die just as easily as you died today.”

“Then I’ll escape death hundreds and hundreds of times,” says Akira.

Goro scoffs.

“I mean it. I was a Phantom Thief, wasn’t I? I escaped death more than once. Did it again today. I’ll do it as many times as it takes until we’re both old and grey.” Akira takes Goro’s hand, but it’s Goro who laces their fingers together.

“Sometimes it doesn’t work that way,” says Goro, like a bad echo of his ten-year-old self, trying to figure out what kind of world would let his mother die.

“I’m just keeping my promise,” says Akira. “I told you that I’d never leave you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Sometimes that’s not your decision to make.”

“It is and I’ve decided I’m immortal until you die.”

Goro scoffs. “Don’t be arrogant.”

“Is it being arrogant? I didn’t let death steal you away from me. I’m not letting it steal me away from you, either.”

“Sometimes…” Goro begins.

“'Sometimes’ what?”

'Sometimes’ what?

Sometimes things get worse. People die early, and unfulfilled; they streak through the sky in a blaze and then wink out, without even a burst of fire to show for it. Sometimes nobody gets a say in what happens, and plans don’t pan out, and wishes aren’t granted, and everything happens for no good reason and no good end.

Today, Goro Akechi-Kurusu is thirty-four years old, about sixteen years older than he ever figured he was going to be. He has a career in a non-profit for maladjusted youth getting reacclimated to school systems and preparing for college, instead of the career in law he figured he’d have if he actually lived that long. He doesn’t just have one friend, but multiple friends. He has, unbelievably, a husband, which honestly still floors him to this day, considering that he was and maybe still is convinced that marriage is a scam devised by asshole men like his father to manipulate young women into a false sense of security. The other day, Akira mentioned that he wanted to get a cat to keep Morgana company, maybe in a few years when they moved into a pet-friendly apartment, and in Goro’s head, it made sense that they would both be alive and together entire years in the future for them to get a cat.

Today is already an impossible day, isn’t it?

“Sometimes,” says Goro flatly, “you say ridiculous things, and I think that you could actually pull it off.”

Akira grins. Akira leans in for their regular greeting kiss when one of them comes home, but this time, Goro closes his eyes, leans into it, really tries to memorize the feel of Akira’s lips on his. Every line and scar on his hands, the odd ends of his fingernails, that familiar way he waits for four beats, then takes a breath through his nose and kisses Goro again, and never can quite seem to avoid kissing him more on the bottom lip than the top. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” he says plainly not three inches from Goro’s face. “It’s bad form to leave a calling card and never show up.”

Goro smiles. “Then I won’t let you break your word.”

When Akira pulls away, he kisses the back of Goro’s hand, like a proper gentleman thief of old. “Happy birthday, dear,” he says, and surprisingly, despite the way this awful day started off, Goro thinks that Akira might be able to pull that promise off, too.

[evesbeve]

for the writing requests: the siblings are ice skating together but vanya is too afraid to skate + doesn’t know how, so five being the best big brother ever teaches her (ur awesome btw)

Catch me working on my winter-themed requests two days before summer. Anyway, this is a bit wobbly, but!! It’s there. Thanks for the request!! (right back at you bro <333)

Title: Sliding Along the Ice

Summary: Ice skating with the Hargreeves. What could possibly go wrong?

(Read on AO3 + FFN)

___

"One is like sliding along the ice, the other is akin to descending blindly into the depths of the freezing water and reappearing as an acorn." —Reginald Hargreeves

Vanya Hargreeves didn't belong on the ice.

She'd always loved the idea of sliding along it on a cold winter day, feeling the wind brush the hair out of her face, maybe even spinning around to swiftly change directions… but that only ever happened in Christmas movies she couldn't really be bothered to watch.

So of course, when Allison suggested they all go ice skating together, Vanya said yes.

The frozen pond by the park was only a fifteen-minute walk away from the Academy. They waited till dark, so they'd have it all for themselves, free of kids and their families. It wasn't that big of a pond, but it was more than enough for the seven of them.

Well. Six of them. That was, if Vanya managed to stay out of it.

It wasn't that she was ashamed of her inability to skate. She doubted any of her siblings knew what they were doing, except maybe for Allison, who was also nowhere near a professional skater. Vanya simply didn't want to spend the rest of the week in bed after breaking all the bones in her body, which was, in her understanding, a very likely turn of events.

"Alright everyone, shoes off!" Allison said and started to hand everyone their ice skates. Vanya shivered at the thought of how much seven pairs of shoes must have cost, but reminded herself that Allison wanted this, and managed to relaxed, even if it was just a bit.

Klaus was the first to take his shoes off, throwing them somewhere across the park—they'd probably never see them again—and Diego held him back from stepping into the snow with only his socks on. "Ben's worried that if he's still wearing skates when he turns incorporeal, he'll be stuck with them forever."

Vanya pressed her lips together, trying to suppress a grin. It was good to know she wasn't the only one having second thoughts.

"He'll just have to skate home then," Diego said, securing his ice skates on.

There was silence for a few seconds, and then Klaus grinned. "He says he'll tear the blades off and give them to you—no, wait—stab you with them."

They kept bickering with each other until everyone—even Ben, who had been now manifested by Klaus—had their skates on. Ever since they'd stopped the apocalypse, Vanya found herself more and more at ease with her siblings as background noise. It was familiar; safe. It helped her stay in control.

"Right then, uh," Luther said, and stood up. "What's the plan?"

"The plan…" Diego mumbled under his breath mockingly. It's not a mission, Luther, Vanya could almost hear him say. In a matter of seconds, he was on the ice, sliding away. "Just try not to break the ice, big guy!"

Klaus and Ben were the next ones on the ice—and the first ones to fall down. Vanya flinched at the sound of bodies falling on the hard ground. She could almost feel it. The two of them seemed unphased though, and simply laughed it off before getting up.

"They're going to get themselves killed," Allison mumbled, and it took a moment for Vanya to register that she was talking to her. "Diego talked them through the basics before, but…"

Vanya huffed through a smile, nodding. "Diego knows how to skate?"

Allison nodded. "And he wouldn't tell me where from."

"Of course he wouldn't."

Their gazes locked, and for a moment, Vanya forgot what she'd been so afraid of. Allison had her back, as always. She was going to help her, and then—

"I think I'm gonna go help Luther," Allison said. It was then that Vanya noticed Luther tiptoeing on the ice, clearly having the worst time of his life. "Before he hydraulic presses the others."

Allison gave Vanya and encouraging squeeze on her shoulder, and then she was off.

Well. At least no one could force her on the ice now.

Vanya made herself comfortable on the bench, observing her siblings. Ben and Klaus were in the middle of performing some sort of musical act—was Klaus singing Time of my Life? Klaus was singing Time of my Life—while Diego span around them in disapproval, trying to stop them from breaking their faces. On the other side of the pond, Luther was holding on Allison for dear life, yet somehow she managed to remain on her feet. Finally, Five was—

"You don't know how to skate, do you?"

Vanya jumped at the voice next to her, pulling her arms into her body to protect herself, but then her eyes fell on its source and—

"Jesus," she hissed.

"Not quite," Five said.

Vanya glared at him.

She hated how, even after all these months, she still wasn't used to Five's presence.

It was different with Ben. He'd died, and even though Vanya didn't get to see it, that was it. He was gone, never to come back, and she knew it, they all knew it. But when Five walked out that morning in the academy, Vanya had been there for it, and she'd been there every day after that when he didn't come back too.

Until one day, he did.

Vanya tried to look away, to go back to looking back at the rest of her family as they slid along the pond, but she couldn't.

And Five was looking right back at her.

"I can teach you," he said, hesitantly. Vanya wasn't used to hearing him speak in anything that wasn't sincere confidence, but she didn't comment on it.

"Okay," she said, and wondered what Five thought of her tone.

They walked to the pond—walking in ice skates was surprisingly very easy—and Five was the first to go in. Then, Vanya followed.

Stepping on the ice felt like tiptoeing.

Sliding on it felt like falling.

Because Vanya did fall.

"You okay?" Five asked, looking down on her. As if Vanya wasn't short enough already.

"Ouch?" Vanya said, managing a huff of amusement out of Five. It hadn't really hurt; she'd fallen on her side, and cut off her fall with her forearm, so she'd ended up sprawled across the ice. She took a few seconds to recollect herself before placing her fingers on the pond to push herself—

"Hands off the ice," Five said.

"Why?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think you're really keen on the idea of Klaus' blades cutting them off your hand—"

"Okay, okay!" Vanya said, and did as she was told. Five talked her through getting up—stand on her knees, put one leg up, and push herself up—before taking her hands in his. "What are you doing?"

"Making sure you skate at least three meters before inevitably falling down again."

Vanya rolled her eyes, but didn't object. She followed Five's lead—how he could ice skate backwards, she honestly didn't know—and actually managed to stay on her feet for more than ten seconds this time.

She lost her balance again, but Five managed to support her weight. "You need to push your right foot to the side, not behind," he said. "And keep your knees slightly more bent—no, that's too much—there."

Vanya estimated they'd gone around the pond at least three times, but it still felt too soon when Five let go of her hands. "Five, no—"

"Don't lean so forward," Five told her, putting more distancing between them. "You're supposed to be pushing yourself away, not pulling towards me."

Vanya swallowed and nodded. She tried not to focus on the impact that was to come, but rather on the girl she became in her fantasies, the one that danced with the ice and with the air, and—

"Woo! Go, Vanya!" Allison cheered from somewhere, and Vanya couldn't help the grin that spread on her face.

"I'm doing it!" she said, her voice filling with laughter.

Vanya's movements were wobbly, but smooth enough, she decided, as she gave the ice another push. The lanterns shined down on her as she moved, and it really did seem like a cheesy Christmas movie.

"Shift your weight!"

"What?" Vanya yelled back at Five, turning around to look at him, only to lose her balance and fall on the ice again.

It didn't hurt as much as the first time. In fact, it didn't hurt at all.

Because she loved it.

A moment later, Five was gliding next to her. Vanya looked up at him, much like before, and he held out his hand. "Am I learning how to spin next?"

Five rolled his eyes as she took his hand. "Is that a risk you're willing to take?"

"I'll teach you!" Klaus said, sloppily catching up to them, followed by Ben. "I already taught Ben!"

"No, you didn't," Ben said.

Klaus pouted. "I lifted you up."

"Diego lifted you up," Ben corrected.

So they were trying to recreate the scene from Dirty Dancing.

"Yeah, barely," Diego said. "Next time, I'd rather pick Luther up."

"Thanks, but no thanks," Luther said without missing a beat. "I'm doing just fine on my own."

"You are, actually," Allison said, shooting him a smile, and then one at Vanya. "You okay?"

Vanya, now standing up again, nodded. "I'll live."

They all spread out after that, and Vanya was left alone with Five, underneath a lantern. She was still holding his hand, but it was more of a reminder that he was there, rather than to balance herself.

"How did you even learn how to skate?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"You'd be surprised what skills you pick up as a field agent," Five simply said, giving her hand one final squeeze, and skating away.

Vanya's gaze followed him for a few seconds, then fell upon the rest of her siblings. Much like before, they were all up to something silly. It was almost childish. Then again, they were only bound to do childish things, after missing out on the entirety of their childhood.

Vanya never imagined they'd get to experience this.

She didn't really care about the ice skating anymore. Since the very start, she'd been right; she didn't belong on the ice.

"Don't you wanna learn how to spin?" Five yelled from afar, and Vanya couldn't help but laugh.

She belonged with her family.

[Commission Info | Ko-fi]

[kryptsune]

I have a Confession... {Red X Frisk Drabble}

FRANS WEEK 2020 // Day 1: Confession

>>Day 2

@fransweek

🌼So a little bit about this. I am planning on doing Frans week this year that said I also don’t want to stress myself out. I have a sketch that I am working on that combines a few of the prompts but I still wanted to do something for day one so here is Underworld Red and Frisk after her run. Frans is so important to me so it is nice to post this kind of content again. 

If you are currently reading Underworld there are a couple of spoilers within this that have yet to show up in the fic. I actually have decided to write this out instead because I am currently editing and getting feedback on the latest chapter which I plan to get up today at some point. If not it is going to be tomorrow. This scene is not canon to Underworld btw angst ahead.

===========================

She had yanked her hand away yelling only for him to become a little overly aggressive. It had slipped her mind as she shook from his actions. His boney almost claw-like fingers dug into her skin causing a blossom of blood to form and trickle down her arm. He had released her when he didn’t realize his own strength but it was too late.

 Her ears rang with his shouts as she ran clutching her arm. Her legs brought her to the only place she found solace. A small little place in Waterfall. She collapsed next to the glowing blue stream shivering as if the very ground she now rested was but ice. When she looked down at her arm, the wound was nowhere to be seen. 

That only meant that her mind had started to decay and old horrors were spilling out. Did he even grab her? Her eyes filled with tears as she placed her shaking hand against her lips. What was real? What was fake? She knew that he loved her but this. She was sure she looked at him with horror swimming in those cobalt depths. The fear was undeniable and he had done nothing to deserve it. How could you ever love someone that saw the shadow of your former self-overlaid over the present? Was she a hypocrite? She told him that she forgave him and yet her mind was wrought with rot. It’s decay slowly creeping deeper and deeper into her mind. The ghosts of the past haunted her even to the extreme of physical sensation. What were you supposed to trust? 

She closed her eyes leaning forward in defeat. Her age was in its prime. A young woman with so much life to live and yet this disease had slowly consumed her sanity and with age, it would only devour what was left of the present. She couldn’t put him through that. It would break her heart. She didn’t deserve him not after that. At that moment her heart began to break. She loved him so much that his happiness went beyond her selfishness. He was better off finding a monster to be with than her. She would get old, her condition would become worse, and he would be tied to a human with such a short life in comparison to his own. It was the way it truly had to be. No amount of apology could ever fix what she had just done even if it was not in her proper state of mind.

She just sat there staring blankly into the water only to hear a small noise off to the side. It was him. It was near impossible for her to truly be alone when he was able to track her down so easily. Even when he approached she refused to raise her head to look at him, “I’m sorry…” She nearly choked on her next set of words as they passed her wavering lips, “We can’t be together. I…. I can barely control myself any longer. All I see is the worst part of you when…” 

The tears began to form as she tried to stop herself, “I know there is so much I love. I…I don’t even deserve you. I want to love you and keep you close to me but I fear I am losing my mind. I see things past and.“ She was cut off as she screwed her eyes shut only whimpering a few chosen words, "I’m so sorry I yelled…. That I ran… I don’t know what is wrong with me anymore.”

Physical ailments could be treated with simple medication or rest but the mind is a complex beast. Just as it’s physical appearance depicts it is a maze that one could be trapped in for all eternity with no hope of escape. She was shaking and nearly on the cliff of a panic attack. What would he say? 

 All she felt was gentle arms wrapping around her from behind cradling her in that warm embrace. How could he even look at her let alone touch her? All she could hear was that soft twinkle of chimes that made Waterfall so unique. He loved her, cared for her, and comforted her. He was her best friend and now someone she couldn’t imagine being without. His silence only led to soft gestures like the wiping of tears, a soft squeeze, and a small smile. He didn’t need words to tell her how he felt. When the silence finally broke she was staring up into those red eyes. One that used to frighten her but now drew her in with that brilliant ruby hue.

He knew what it was like to lose your mind as his father had made sure of it. The monster he once was and the one she had met were like doppelgangers and though those traits from his past had returned he still struggled with the one thing that stained his very being. The very thing that had nearly torn half the Underworld apart with its aggression and madness. To see her go through the same pains hurt his soul. 

He had learned to control his and yet hers only seemed to become worse. He feared one day she would harm herself due to some demon that crept into her mind. Take that pain away... that was all that he wanted for her. Even her outbursts could never change how much he loved her. Even if she tried to pull away he would always pull her back. He had done this to her and so he deserved what he was getting.

 He only threaded his fingers through her hair gently combing through the auburn strands, “Why would ya ever think I’d be mad at ya?” He had been working tirelessly for weeks trying to improve her mental condition and yet no amount of magic could fix her wounds, “Ya don’t deserve me? Sweetheart, ya got it backward. I did this ta ya and I’m sorry. I wish I could take it all back er’… erase all tha bad but I can’t. You could yell at me fer tha rest of yer life… I will never leave ya.”

 He just held her praying to someone, anyone that one day those demons would be purged from her mind even if that meant he had to be out of the equation. She deserved better and though he loved her with his every breath he could not deny that he was only causing her more pain. He could feel her small frame shuddering as she sobbed, “Shhhh I gotcha.”

It was ironic considering the place she had chosen to escape to. It was a special place for both of them. It did not look like much but this was the place where his once cold and ruthless soul had been soothed. No amount of words or magic could do what her warm smile had or just that sparkle of hope and love in her eyes. It was the moment he realized he had been horribly wrong about the seemingly fragile human girl sitting beside him and how much of the term monster he had become.

 A truly awful horrible demon of a skeleton that didn’t deserve her angelic mercy. He had a difficult time living with his past actions drowning in a regret that not even time could cure. He remembered finding her trying to hold back tears as she wrapped her pale arms around herself. Seeing his handiwork in full display only for her to panic at his snooping. She explained that though time appeared broken for her that did not mean there were no consequences to such a thing. She called it a curse and rightfully so. Even as they sat in silence he could feel his thoughts shifting.

 That was the moment that changed everything. That was truly the moment that he realized just how special she was and how important she was to him specifically. He nearly cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. It was the same exact spot. The only difference was that he had no hesitation in his comforting of her. He wanted her to know that no matter what he would always be there no matter what she did because deep down a little of her hope had made its way into him. He would save her just like she had saved him all those years ago. She deserved happiness and he knew that for her that included him just as much. She had said so herself.

He closed his sockets just resting his mouth on the crown of her head before slowly raising it to speak clearly, “Ya saved everyone Sweetheart… now let me save you, alright?”

 He continued to hold her like the little fragile thing she was letting her feel that warmth and comfort. That loving embrace that would never leave her. She looked up at him now calmed by the soft words and warm cradle of his arms. It was a simple word one that might make another laugh at its absurdity, “Red…” 

Ah yes, the nickname. The very one that had been a joke in the past. A failed attempt at a kind of quip for his use of so many pet names for her. There was one that stood out among the rest, sweetheart. There was nothing as fitting as that one simple word for her. She had made a point about mocking his fashion sense and his unfortunate eye color saying that he should be nicknamed after the color he seemed to be drowned in but it was his.

 A name that proved that though he had become something he hardly recognized that was the person she had grown fond of and could call a friend. It was special even if to the untrained eye it would appear rather bland or foolish. When that word slipped past her lips his soul would thump in his chest skipping the nonexistent beat that filled what a heart would do.

 He stared into those blue eyes that were filled with so much love for him something he never thought he would ever deserve. No, no one could say that name like she could. She didn’t need to speak anymore he just swept her off her feet so they could once again return home. He would keep hope for a brighter future and one day all those grey clouds would give way to the most beautiful blue sky.

 She had already cleared away the storm for him now it was his turn to show her the true beauty of a night sky unhindered by a single cloud. A peace, love, and happiness unmatched and unequal to anything on this planet or under it.

💙Ways to Support💙:

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Thank you, everyone, for your continuous love and support. It truly means so much to me.

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Summer Romance and Cinema Nights (Sriracha, Part 12.)

Description: A problematic college student gets the worst summer job of the ‘83 - Jim Hopper, the Chief of police in your hometown will have you as his secretary since his old lady Flo has two months lasting holiday. It was agreed so Hopper could let you far away from all the trouble.

Part Summary: Dating a local police Chief may be way trickier than it seems. But when he turns out to be a complete fool for you, you somehow know that you can work that.

A/N: FLUFFY JIM, YAY! Also, just btw, I would like to announce that the official two songs for this fic‘s couple are: Little Secrets by Passion Pit and 3 Nights by Dominic Fike. Two brilliant, catchy songs which excellently depict the mood!

Word count: 2.9 K

Tagging: @nemodoren​ @missdictatorme​ @creedslove​

Master list: H E R E ​

That other morning, somehow everything seemed to be just perfect - Hopper, for the first time in forever, woke up on time to shower and prepare on time. He had such a good mood that he opened up his windows in his car and basically yelled every lyric of You Don't Mess Around With Jim from the window. A bold move for riding though Hawkins at half-past seven in the morning. And even bolder when you acknowledged that Hopper couldn't sing for shit. He even bought a huge Puget of flowers to welcome Florence back in the office.

When he ran inside the office, the tune was still playing outside - the office was smelling like freshly brewed coffee and just baked donuts, that made Jim even swing his hips in the beat coming out of the car. He gently put the flowers in front of Florence, who just opened up her mouth, and he danced into the office while singing the chorus. She was looking at him and she was even more surprised when Hopper didn't even lit up a cigarette as he walked through the office. Was Jim actually put through lobotomy when she was gone?

Powell and Callahan just stood there, looking at the man any of them actually didn't know. Powell then poked Callahan's side - Chief must've gotten laid and it must've been extraordinary good because there wasn't any sane explanation for any of that.

"A good night with a lady in a warm bed, Chief?" - Powell teased Hopper with a knowing smile and both of the men almost choked when Hopper just hummed back.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you and your wife would be jealous if she knew." - Hopper patted his shoulder and with another of his terrifying signing, he turned around to go turn off the radio in his car. But just as his good mood came out of nowhere, just as quickly he was brought back to life when he patiently sat in his chair and waited for your promised call.

There was no other way to name the feeling inside of him - Hopper was just straightway nervous. There wasn't any other way to put that. He was his foot and when he wasn't tapping his foot, he was tapping his fingers into his desk. When he wasn't tapping his fingers into the desk, he was constantly fetching himself a cup of coffee - it was almost a miracle because Florence hasn't seen him coming out of the office as regularly as he did that day. A lot of coffee meant that he was peeing rather often - for the first time in a long time, he felt like a living, breathing person.

The call came - soon after one in the afternoon, his phone suddenly came to life. He almost jumped at the plastic box, letting the phone fall three times on his desk. And at that moment, his head told him to act cool. Like he didn't almost shit his pants when the phone rang.

"Um... Chief of Police, Jim Hopper, at the phone, Hawkins PD. What can I help you with?" - He asked and coughed a bit. If it wasn't you, he swore that he's going to kill someone. But then he heard a burst of your laughter and he almost hummed with pleasure. His mind told him that he's the cool guy now and there's no way he's going to laugh, smile, hum or grunt.

"You're funny. Really funny. Sorry, it took me so long, I was with my mom and brother... Long story short, boring noon at the household. What about the old mill near the town, half an hour from now? I'll give you five minutes in advance." - You spoke fast because you didn't have any idea of how much of time you've got remaining.

"Of course, Mr. Black. The old mill? You say that somethin' got lost? Yeah, I'll be there in thirty minutes." - Hopper answered loud enough for Florence to hear the response, hearing you losing your cool on the other end once again.

"In thirty-five minutes, not a minute late, okay? Don't forget I have my watch on." - You whispered in the end and ended up the call for good. Hopper immediately got on his feet and looked at himself in the window, slicking his hair back and readjusting the uniform, putting his sunglasses on to look even cooler. Then he stopped at Florence's dear, still seeing you there, drawing your small little pictures, eating a single donut all day long, with a bored face, waiting for a call.

"I need to go to the old mill...-" "Because old black lost something. Again. You yelled it loud enough." - Florence told him back, having a bored look on her face. The newest Harlequin added to the library was opened in her desk and she was almost halfway through it. Which was impressive.

"I'll most likely take my lunch break as well." - Hopper informed her briefly and feared her answer since the look she gave him was already furrowed enough. - "Since you once walked in exactly on time, why not?" - She mumbled in the end, ignoring Hopper from that moment on. He basically ran into his car, holding the hat on his head.

It was less than twenty minutes on a bike when you knew roads though the Hawkins woods, but it was almost thirty minutes by car, so he really had to try and drive like a madman. But it was worth it in the end - when he parked the car, you were already sitting in the car there, having only long basketball shorts and a tight black top on. You smiled and was on your legs in no time, running towards Hopper.

When you jumped at him, circling your hands around his neck, he was seriously trying his best to keep both of you standing on your feet. When you almost sucked the breath out of him, you stepped a bit away, watching your wristwatch.

"Two minutes earlier. I'm impressed." - You mumbled, pulling him for a kiss again, closing your eyes. Then, before he had the opportunity to answer something witty back, you caught his palm and lead him to the backseats.

The half an hour on the backseat was one of the most passionate he ever had. There wasn't much space, but you figured out how to pull his pants down to his ankles, how to pull down your shorts and you just pulled the top down so he could watch your boobs bounce as you leaned both your palms into the roof and cried out with pleasure. As always, Hopper was doing and saying things that made you more than a chuckle, having you laughing on his lap at one time.

Half an hour later, you were both laying on the back seat, breathing heavily. You never remembered sex being as good as it was with Hopper. But it was definitely mind-blowing. When he tried to put his pants at least partially up, you stopped his arm, grinning. Your leg was spread up to the air and it seemed like you're in pain.

"I have a spasm. Hold on a second." - You begged, still having the leg in the air. The least Hopper could do was to support your leg, so he caught it in the air. After a minute, you finally got dressed, still having that selfish grin.

"What's that about?" - Jim asked as he still tried to catch his breath. It was almost awfully hot in the car. And it definitely smelled like a damn good quickie.

"Every time you'll be driving Blazer, you'll see me riding you on the backseat." - You chuckled and climbed out to stretch your back. - "Seems to me like I'm already winning the little remember me game."

"You'll see about that. What about the movies, have you thought about that?" - Jim took out one of the cigarettes, closing the door behind you, leaning his ass into the car. He still had his shirt and t-shirt untugged, but he knew it can hold on a minute. He offered you from the pack as well, but you shook your head.

"How do you want to execute that crazy plan?" - You asked back, slowly smoothing his left arm before entwining your fingers with his. Jim took a second to think about that, lighting the cigarette up.

"Well, you'll go first and buy yourself a ticket. I'll go second so people would be less suspicious. I'll put on the grumpy asshole fave everyone knows and pretend to meet you in there. The rest is a mystery." - Jim answered thoughtfully and laughed, when you playfully punched his shoulder, laughing as well. He put his arm around your shoulder, bringing you even closer, kissing the top of your head.

"You really thought about that, huh?" - You mumbled, putting your arms around his waist, nudging your face into the shirt of his uniform. - "Nobody told me you're handsome, a good cook and clever. Almost too good to be true."

"Yeah, keep that talk to yourself, will you? We'll need some pretty good actin' if we're supposed to make people believe that." - Hopper answered back, puffing out a bit of smoke.

"Come on, no-one in the city actually believes that Jim Hopper, the asshole from downtown, would be able to pick up a college student." - You mumbled back, poking fun of him even further. - "I can do a survey to prove you, huh?"

"Oh, shut up, smarty." - Hopped answered back and this time, he was actually laughing. You laughed back, slowly letting go of him.

"So I'll see you at the cinema, then?" - You licked your lips with expectations, having the devil in your eyes. Hopper nodded. - "The last movie starts at 8:15. If you're not there, I'm going on my own, old man." - You laughed while you walked to your bike. Jim just looked at his boots, gulping down your sour comment. You meant it as a joke, but it was nothing but the truth. He was watching you riding down the hill before he finished the cigarette - after that, he finally tugged his shirt back and got into the car. 

You were right - how did it come that you were right so often? Just as he turned around to drive backward, he was seeing you riding him like crazy. And he smiled at that. 

Just as he told you, he meant to keep his word. Once 8:15 came, he was already turning the engine off. 

You, on the other hand, were in the line since 8:00. You put on your best denim jacket and a red t-shirt under it to bring out the colors even more. You were looking like a million bucks - and of course, none other than Steve and his asshole best friends noticed you. Steve was harmless and sweet when he was alone or around Aiden, but once he was hanging with Carol and Tommy, he was a disaster. 

“Look who we got here.” - Steve grinned from ear to ear when he saw you standing in the line, coming to you like a cocky son of a bitch he was pretending to be. You smiled back, straightening a bit. 

“Hey there, Steve. Carol. Tommy.” - You nodded to each one of them with a stiffened smile. These two were total assholes and jerks - Carol was the typical jealous bitch from your neighborhood who surely won't make it far in her life just because she always stuck her disgusting nose into the lives of other people and Tommy... Well, he hadn't got a brain, so his life must've kind of suck. 

“What are you doing here? Alone? On your own?” - Carol asked, nuzzling into her boyfriends' armpit. The rumors had it that she's fucking him since the seven grade, but you didn't care for your own good.

“I'm just going to see a movie on my own. You know, adults are fond of spending time on their own.” - You snorted back at her, seeing that bitch rolling her eyes while she chewed on the bubblegum. Soon, you were standing there with Steve only, because Carol hated you for some reason and Tommy H always followed her around like a tail.

“If you're alone, do you want me to... Uh... Join you?” - Steve asked silently, watching your face. You giggled a bit and smiled at him. Every time he was all alone and not under the influence of that bitter bitch and dumb jock, he was a sweetheart. You knew that since you knew Steve from the time he was six. - “They won't be mad. I don't feel like going out with them either.” - He swore and felt his breath smelling like beer and cigarettes. Which immediately brought back Hopper on your mind. 8:08. He still had seven minutes. 

“I was serious. I don't mind being on my own, Steve. It helps me with cleaning my head. You should go and enjoy... The New Star Wars.” - You looked at his ticket and smiled. You bought a ticked on the other movie and hoped that Hopper won't buy the wrong one. 

In the end, Steve nodded. You watched as his eyes controlled the situation around and after he was sure that Tommy or Carol can't see him, he offered you a hug. This one was a friendly one - you could tell from the smile he had on. It was the honest Steve Harrington smile. That was why you accepted. 

“Enjoy the movie... No matter what you'll be watching.” - He said before he ran off to the line for popcorn and some soda, finding Tommy and Carol still hugging. Oh, that bitch was definitely talking trash, again, but you didn't care. You took your place in the line as well, planning to buy yourself at least some soda. 

Hopper entered the cinema like a hurricane - he had a beige blazer you couldn't recognize, definitely some new jeans and a shirt you would've sworn that you haven't seen in the cabin yet. He was looking bald, the colors were bringing more life into his looks and you needed to say... That Hopper was looking fucking great. His blue eyes found you in a second, being almost the one to order, but he pretended that he didn't see you. 

Acting, you reminded yourself, you needed some good acting. You patiently waited for your Pepsi can and paid with a small smile, leaving to go through the corridor leading into the cinema, where you waited for Hopper. He almost freaked out when you suddenly came from behind the corner and let his popcorn go. 

“Hey there, Chief.” - You said almost unbelievably, letting a couple walk around you. - “I think I haven't even seen you outside the PD. How you're doing?” - You smiled and walked there by his side. Jim really knew how to act - he looked so bugged that you thought about doing something wrong. 

“I was good until now.” - He muttered out, bringing the popcorn closer to his body, nervously looking throughout the hall. You walked straight to the most distanced seats, looking at Hopper. 

“Jesus, come and sit next, everyone knows you're all alone here.” - You rolled your eyes and Hopper slowly followed you. You were a good actress when you needed to be one. You could act like a serious brat. Good acting from the both of you, indeed. 

“Move.” - Hopper grunted out angrily, acting like his night was just ruined. You sat next to each other in the back row, away from all the people that were for the movie actually. You both sat there without emotions in your faces, Hopper was chewing on his popcorn. He was waiting for the moment when all the people finally concentrate on the movie - and he also jealously watched a couple of teenagers at the other end of the row. He sighed. 

When the right moment finally came, it almost halfway through the movie and even you seemed to enjoy it since you laughed here and there. You jumped a bit when you felt a palm caressing your knee. In one moment, your face froze and your expression changed. You looked at the making out couple, the only other people sitting in one row with you, then you looked down on his palm before catching it into yours. From that moment, you had a contained smile on your lips as you moved your shoulder to Hopper‘s to lean into him.

At the end of the movie, you both let go, both your palms suddenly feeling fucking cold. And no-one noticed a thing. It might seem to be utter nonsense, but in reality, it was a bold and almost stupid move. If anyone saw that you're holding hands, you were dead. But no-one did. 

That night, you walked home - promising Hopper that you'll call him again tomorrow.

[jugpea]

tough, kid | sp + jb

req: Can you make a Halloween oneshot? With Jughead and Jellybean supposedly going to trick or treat, but something came up with Jughead. So, Jellybean instead drags Sweat Pea with her (BTW, she doesn’t like Sweats at the start), Jughead thinks this is a chance for his Bf and sister to get to know each other and JB gives SW a hard time along the way, while Sweats is trying to get a long with her because she’s his bf’s sister. But at the end of the night JB and SW are close that Jughead is regretful of leaving the two if them together because he knows chaos will erupt A/N: this is unedited, super rough but I had this idea and went with it. Managed to get it done in one sitting (which is actually the first time that’s happened in a long time). enjoy -- and remember, sharing is caring. If you liked this, consider reblogging it for your friends! 

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“But he promised he would come with me.” 

Sweet Pea wasn’t entirely sure how this became a him problem. A little over a week ago, Jughead promised to make good on his word to go trick-or-treating with Jellybean Halloween night. Unsurprisingly, the duties of being a King called, and he was nowhere to be found. That wasn’t atypical of the teen, but it wasn’t currently working in Sweet Pea’s favour. 

“That’s too bad.” 

“But dad won’t let me go alone!” 

Sweet Pea looked up from his binder, shooting her a dark look. This was the first time the girl had ever made an effort to talk to him. Usually she ignored his presence, which was something he didn’t mind given that he was god awful with kids. Not that Jellybean reminded him of a kid. Sometimes she seemed brighter than half the kids in his class. 

“Tough, kid.”

JB gave a humph, leaving him alone in his trailer to sit on one of the logs outside. After listening to her sigh into the quiet for the umpteenth time, he finally swung his legs off the side of his mattress with a low growl and shoved his feet into his boots. Did he really want to go out? No. Would he do it so she’d give him some peace? Reluctantly, yes. 

He searched through his small stack of clothing for a pair of black jeans and a plain black shirt. He would be supervising, and didn’t really intend to enjoy it. Shrugging into his leather, he stomped his way out of the trailer and slammed the door. 

JB looked up from her place; despite his furrowed brow and blatant annoyance, her cheeks lifted in a smile and she shot upright. “Knew it.” 

“Yeah, whatever.” 

He waited while she unlocked her bike, following behind her slow pedaling easily with his long stride. The walk to the Northside sucked, but even more so with Jughead’s little sister incessantly chirping up to ask him questions. 

“Have you always lived in a trailer?” 

“Yes.” 

“Me, too.” She lamented, standing to pedal instead of sitting -- it made her feel taller in comparison to his towering frame. “Well, until now.” 

He didn’t dignify her with a response, instead chose to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket and continued forward towards the tracks. 

“When did you meet my brother?” 

“When he showed up at Southside High.” Formally, at least. Sweet Pea knew about Jughead long before his arrival at Southside. 

Growing tired of his uninterest, she sped up and stopped in front of him, nearly tripping him over her rear tire. 

“What the f--” he caught himself, bracing a hand on the tire with a deep sigh. “Don’t do that.” 

“I’m trying to make conversation.” 

Sweet Pea’s nostrils flared the slightest bit, letting his eyes slip closed. “Less talking, more biking.” 

Uninterested in arguing, she rolled her eyes and continued home, no longer caring if he fell behind. He would catch up, even if it meant he had to jog. It was a solid twenty minute trek to the Jones’ home, one Sweet Pea made regularly during midnight visits. FP’s ignorance to the teen slipping through his sons window was better left that way, and his bike would only draw attention. 

He waited in the living room, pulling his phone out to connect to the WiFi and text his significant other. What business did he have that Sweet Pea wasn’t involved in? There was almost next to nothing that Jughead didn’t include him in. One part because he was Jughead’s second in command, one part because Jughead liked having him there.

After some time, JB came bounding down the stairs in a flurry holding up something in her left hand and some sort of pump in her right. She dropped the pump at his feet, and quickly shoved her legs into the costume. 

“Quick,” she panted, pulling it up over her body. “Fill it.” 

“Fill it?” 

Exasperated, she grabbed the hose belonging to the pump and stuck it inside, using her foot to turn the pump on -- air immediately began rushing in, inflating the costume around her. It wasn’t until the head began filling that Sweet Pea knew exactly what she was going as.

“Are you shitting me?” 

“Find better words,” JB chided, but her smile remained intact. “Yes. I’m a T-Rex.” 

Momentarily stunned, he watched as the rest of it filled until the plastic was tight and in place; she shut the pump off, carefully trying to keep as much air in as she could while removing the hose. 

The only other person that knew he thoroughly enjoyed this stupid costume was Fogarty. Sweet Pea couldn’t help but break into a laugh, watching his boyfriend's little sister parade around the living room with her head bobbing this way and that. 

“Oh, Jughead is so gonna be pissed he missed this,” Sweet Pea muttered, holding his phone up while JB posed with a goofy expression. 

After they went through a mini photoshoot with JB’s approval of all photos, she then shot him a glare. “Post these anywhere and you’re dead.” He stood stunned as she walked away towards the door, grabbing the polka dotted pillowcase from the staircase. “Sometime this century, old man.” 

Sweet Pea fell back into his previous annoyance, “I resent that.” 

“I resent you, but here we are.” 

They walked the entirety of the Northside; JB continued her questions, Sweet Pea kept himself distracted by people watching. He wasn’t the only teen from Riverdale walking around with a kid, but this kid wasn’t his blood so he did receive a few lingering stares. 

It wasn’t until they reached the last house near Fox Forest that they slowed their pace. A group of kids hung around the forest's edge, whispering back and forth to each other. JB recognized them immediately.

“That’s Sammy!” She hissed, immediately diving behind a bush.

Her reaction confused Sweet Pea, leaving him standing upright and relatively alone as she attempted to hide herself. “What in the ever loving fuck are you doing?” 

“Language.” She growled, glaring up at him again before she sighed, “Sammy’s in my class.” 

Curious, he shoved his hands into his pockets and looked back towards the group, “You got a problem with Sammy?” When she refused to respond, he grabbed the head of the T-Rex and pulled it up until it was visible over the top of the bush. 

“Stop!” She pleaded quietly, grabbing it from his hands. “I don’t want him to see me.” 

“Why not?” 

Jellybean’s features collapsed; Sweet Pea was the last person she wanted to talk to about this. But given that her brother and dad were no better, she figured someone was better than just her diary. “I like him.” 

“Oh, I get it,” he nodded, nonchalantly shrugging, “You look stupid so you don’t want him to see you.” 

Rolling her eyes, she kicked his shin and folded her arms. After a moment of silence, she looked up at him again and sighed, “Do boys really …” she struggled to find the words, “I mean, if a boy is mean to you does that really mean he likes you? Because Jessie said --”

Sweet Pea was already shaking his head, “If that’s what he does, it’s the wrong way to go about it. And at your age, you shouldn’t be worried about boys.” 

“You sound like my dad.” She grumbled.

“Yeah, well,” well nothing. He could only shrug. 

“They all laugh at me,” she continued, voice growing quieter with each word. “When he does it, the rest of them laugh. Even the girls.” 

In his day, Sweet Pea had been one of those people. It wasn’t something he was proud about, but growing up without much of a parental figure meant he had to learn normal mannerisms himself. It was only when he was fourteen that he realized he was the world's biggest jackass. 

JB peered around the leaves, nervous to move with them still lurking in the dark. “Can you help me out of this?” 

“What?” He looked down at her, then shook his head, “No. No way. This is the coolest costume we’ve seen all night --”

“You just said I looked stupid!” 

Sweet Pea rolled his eyes, “I was being facetious.” When her brows furrowed, he tried again, “Sarcastic.” 

“That’s Jughead’s thing.”

The Serpent sighed, glancing back towards the group that was slowly disappearing into the underbrush; as an idea began to form in his mind, he held his hand out towards JB, “Do you have your slingshot?”

“Yeah.” She stated as though it were the most obvious thing. That didn’t surprise him, she hardly went anywhere without it. “Why?” 

“Give it to me,” he took it from her hand, scaling the opening to where the children disappeared. He started trekking towards a gathering of trees on the left side, listening to JB following along behind him; when they were concealed inside the darkness, he continued forward until the voices of the group picked up. The closer they ventured, the easier it was to make out the frames. 

JB whispered which one was Sammy. He was the shortest out of the group, with dark hair and a mole on his chin. Sweet Pea shook his head, hoping his face didn’t show just how laughable the boy was. 

“Get your phone out.” He mused. Then, he reached for a few pebbled on the ground, lining them up with the slingshot before pelletting it forward; it hit the tree just next to the teens, the snap against the bark bringing their attention together. The conversation stopped. They looked around. 

“What as that?”

“Shh! Listen.” 

Perfect, he thought to himself, lining up another before sending it just above their heads. Now that it was a closer sound, their faces began to fill with worry. They were nervous. Kids still believed that things went bump in the night, that made this all the more fun. 

Was he a sick, twisted individual? Yes. But, his boyfriends little brat sister was being bullied and well, Sweet Pea didn’t really care for bullies. 

The more he shot at them, the darker their features became. The girls started screaming, taking off in the direction they hoped they came from. It was the boys, however, Sammy in particular, that he wanted to have lose their shit. 

And lose their shit they did. It took him ten minutes to get them going, but once they did, JB could still hear them yelling at each other from up the street, and she had gotten the entire thing on recording. Her brother would be so proud. 

Jughead didn’t get home until sometime after midnight; FP was passed out on the couch in the living room, JB and Sweet Pea seated at the kitchen table with her pillowcase of candy spread between them; he ate whatever she didn’t like, and thankfully she hated everything sour. They were on their third glass of milk, JB ripping open the last of her mini Twix bars when Jug came to stand at the head of the table, looking between the two of them in confusion. They were in their own bubble, chatting back and forth, sharing knowing glances, giggling deviously about something only the two of them could know about. 

A knot began to wind in his stomach. He hadn’t expected Jellybean to actually go ask his boyfriend to supervise her Halloween. He was more surprised that Sweet Pea obviously agreed to go -- if all else failed, he thought for sure he could rely on his boyfriend to keep up his tough guy facade and stay home for the night. 

Obviously, he thought wrong. And he was going to pay for that later. 

“Am I going blind, or are you two actually sitting in each others presence and … laughing.”

Jellybean looked up at her brother, casting a sideways glance at Sweet Pea before she shrugged, “Dunno. He’s alright I guess.” 

“Alright? We kicked ass, kid.”  

“Yeah.” She smiled, looking up at her brother again, “We kicked ass!” 

“Language!” 

“Sorry!”